


Sour

by Garish_Flower



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1980s, Age Difference, Alcohol, Cigarettes, Confused Emotions, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Enemies, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insecurity, Insults, Light Angst, Oral Sex, Over stimulation, Panty Kink, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Punk Rock, Rough Sex, Slut Shaming, Smoking, Smut, Spelling & Grammar, Swearing, Vaginal Fingering, Vomiting, breath play, degrading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garish_Flower/pseuds/Garish_Flower
Summary: Signing onto EMI records in the mid 80′s should have been a dream come true for Reader and her punk band, but she finds herself bubbling over with rage every time she interacts with the drummer from the successful rock band that records down the hall.
Relationships: Roger Taylor (Queen)/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 95





	1. You're a Right Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many active series right now it’s not even funny but here I am with a 3 parter. Anywho, let me know what you think of this fic, it’s my first time writing for Roger and this can be read as Ben Hardy!Roger as well.

Signing onto EMI should have seemed like a dream come true, but it wasn’t. Not because you and your band had issues with the contract or the long hours spent in the recording studio, no, it was because of a certain drummer of a certain internationally known rock band that had been the absolute bane of your existence. You honestly had no idea how the two of you had gotten off on the wrong foot, maybe it was how loud your hot-headed drummer, Benny got when he was pissed off, or how Haz liked to play his guitar outside of the sound dampened recording studio or how your singer Joe sand loudly in the halls as the four of you left to go home, or maybe it was the fact that you told him you expected him to be much shorter from slouching behind his set. Come to think of it, it probably was the latter of the complaints you’ve gotten from the neighboring band.

The first time you met Roger Taylor was also your first day in the recording studio as an officially signed and contracted band. The group of you were leaving well past midnight, alcohol and cigarettes seemed to be the only way you four could make it through recording this late. As the group of you stumbled through the hallway, your laughter accompanied by Joe’s bass heavy vocals echoed loudly through the halls. Your troupe had just barely made your way to the first door before a head of messy blond hair and furrowed brows poked his head out from the neighboring recording room, “Would you shut your bloody traps, some of us are trying to record.” He snapped before loudly slamming the door behind him.

You and your bandmates froze, unsure of what to do or say. It wasn’t until Haz spoke up and shoved Joe “Yeah shut up, Joe.” He mocked while laughing. You couldn’t help but think of how familiar his face looked.

Just the thought of Roger Taylor was enough to make your mood sour for at least the next three hours. You frowned pushing the heavy doors to the outside open, inhaling the cool winter air. You needed to get out of that damn recording studio, it got so stuffy after having four people in there breathing the same air for hours at a time. You brought a cigarette to your lips and lit it, leaning against the brick building with your hands in your jacket pocket, the door next to you opened revealing your nemesis, Roger Taylor, much to your dismay. “Fuck now my cigarette is ruined.” You said blowing smoke out towards the air.

Roger rolled his eyes, “Piss off.” He retorted before walking past you and to his car to grab a few sets of spare sticks.

“Aw, not out here to join me for a smoke?” you joked.

Roger frowned and his face twisted into one of disgust “I’d rather eat a fist full of glass.” He spat at you bitterly.

You hummed taking a drag from your cigarette and blew the smoke directly in his face as he walked past you “Shame, we really could have bonded.”

Roger waved the smoke away from his face “Don’t you have to be a bitch somewhere else?”

Your face twisted as you stubbed your cigarette out with your boot “Don’t you have to bang on some pots and pans?” you retorted.

Roger rolled his eyes and pushed past you, throwing the door open and stomping down the hall. You waited a beat for him to make his way to Queen’s recording room before you followed suit. Seeing Roger Taylor in person was enough to sour your mood for a few days. You and your bad attitude made your way back to the studio, you loudly shut the door behind you which caught the attention of your bandmates. “What’s got you in a pissy mood?” Haz asked.

Benny smirked knowingly “You ran into roger while out on your smoke break, didn’t you?” 

You huffed “I swear to god I’m going to fight his arrogant ass one of these days.” You said while pacing, too worked up to sit down.

Joe walked out of the booth “Well if you’re done brooding, get in and record your bass line for the song. We’ve been wasting time waiting for you to get back in.” He sounded almost as frustrated as you were.

You nodded, picking up your bass and walking into the booth, you put the headphones on and allowed for the music your bandmates had recorded previously to fill your eardrums as you added your bass line onto their unapologetically loud post-punk beats.

The music stopped and you looked up from your bass, “You sound like shit.” Benny said, “Not like good shit, but like actual shit.” He added.

Your jaw dropped, “Excuse me?” you sounded shocked, “What?” You really couldn’t wrap your head around what Benny had just told you.

Joe nodded his head and gave you a sympathetic smile along with a thumbs down, “You should make it… make it more slappy I guess?”

You scoffed “Slappy? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Benny clicked on the speaking button again “It means, make it sound slappy. Like this,” He said singing a bass like.

You nodded your head “Got it.” You said and waved your hand signaling them to roll the tape. You chewed on your lip and listened for a minute to think of something to play before you let your fingers fly down your frets and strings. When you finished you looked back up to the window “Slappy enough for you?”

“Fucking brilliant, per usual.” Haz complemented into the mic.

Movement in the background caught your attention though, you walked closer to the window and squinted your eyes trying to see into the poorly lit sound booth to the door. Where some tall figures stood “What’s going on back there?” You asked.

Haz shifted nervously in his seat “Don’t worry about it, we have other songs to do.” You could see him swallow thickly behind the glass that separated the two of you.

You were suspicious but he was right, “Fine, roll the bloody tape.” You were frustrated, frustrated with your shit takes, frustrated with Roger, frustrated with the fact you didn’t know what was going on from the outside of this stupid little box. Through the middle of your little recording session you saw your bandmates recongregate in front of the soundboard. They whispered and talked amongst themselves while the producer sat next to them obviously eavesdropping, you abruptly stopped “Are you going to tell me who was at the door? Or should I just keep playing and not having you pay attention.” You said bitterly.

Benny rolled his eyes and paused the recording, “If you really need to know, Freddie Mercury invited us to a gathering at his house later this evening.” He said waving an envelope in front of the window.

“You’ve got to be joking.” You said, letting go of your bass and allowing it to drop and hand loosely from the strap around your shoulder.

“Honest,” He said raising his hands defensively.

You took your headphones off and switched off the mic before screaming “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” From behind the soundproof booth, that did it. You rage had finally bubbled over, you shoved over the table holding your water, extra pics, and notes before breathing deeply and regathering yourself. “Let’s roll the fucking tape so we can get ready, yeah?” You said, as your bandmates looked at you with shocked expressions behind the glass. “You lot catching flies, or are we going to fucking record, let’s go.”

As you recorded your bandmates sat in an uncomfortable silence before one of them finally spoke “I’ve never seen [Y/N] that mad at anything in my life.” Haz started, leaning back in his chair.

Joe nodded his head, still listening intently but joining in on the conversation, “Yeah, but I bet it’s because she hasn’t gotten a proper lay in ages.”

Benny cracked open his beer and took a big gulp before grunting in agreement “You think she fancies Taylor?” he questioned.

“Yeah, but she can’t deal with her feelings, you know that. She’ll destroy this whole damn studio before she admits that.” Haz pointed out.

Benny nodded his head “Right, well I guarantee she is going to be piss drunk tonight, so I’ll keep an eye on her.”

\---

After your litter outburst in the studio the boys decided to call it a day after your last take to allow for you all to go home and get ready for Freddie’s party, Ben would be making arounds later to pick everyone up but that wouldn’t be an issue considering he was also your roommate. You rifled through your closet, struggling to figure out what to wear. Your typical style didn’t seem grand enough for a Freddie Mercury party, but you made do with what you had and opted for comfort instead of sex appeal.

“Try not to fight anyone tonight.” Benny said as the two of you got into his small car.

You obviously knew what he was referencing but preferred to ignore it “I won’t, it’ll be fine, I’ve never been in a better mood.” You said and flashed him a fake cheesy smile.

Benny rolled his eyes knowing he would have his hands full tonight.

The drive to Freddie’s lavish home was surprisingly short, which you were grateful for seeing as sitting in the car was making you stir crazy. A pit of butterflies had formed in your stomach, but you had no idea why you had this sudden onset of nerves. You got along wonderfully with all of the other members of the famous rock and roll band and often times would ring up John Deacon for advice on your playing. You didn’t mind his bluntly honest critiques or his back handed complements that would make any other person run and cry. You were not any other person in the sense that you and John were very similar in that sense. Being the bassists in your respective bands meant you had to stand up for yourself otherwise you would get pushed to the background and often forgotten about by fans. It was your mutual understanding for the struggles of being bassists and strong drinkers that caused your professional friendship to form.

The group of you made your way to Freddie’s front door and were let in by nicely dressed doormen, and the scene before you was unlike anything you could have imagined. You knew his parties were the stuff of legends, but a party of this stature could rival even the great Jay Gatsby. You quickly lit a cigarette and took a glass of expensive white wine from one of the waitstaffs’ trays, promptly downing the small glass and handing it back to them, “Shall we?” You asked nodding your head into the large crowd of people before you.

Before you knew it, your bandmates had been swallowed by the crowd, causing you to lose sight of them and anyone else you may have recognized as a matter of fact. You meandered through the crowd towards the bar where you saw a familiar head of iconic curly hair, “Brian!” You said, greeting him with a friendly embrace which he returned. “It’s so nice to see you outside of the recording studio.” You jokingly said.

He laughed and nodded his head, “Yeah same to you.” He took a sip from his drink, “I heard you and Roger got into another little spat.” He could see the remanence of frustration behind your cheerful expression.

Your smile quickly dropped and was replaced by rolling eyes and deep sigh, “Did he tell you that?” You asked, you could feel your frustration boiling over.

“You know he’s sensitive about his drumming.” Brian chimed in with a smirk, oh did he love stirring the pot between the two of you.

“Well I’m sensitive about being called a bitch.” You said quickly swallowing the mixed drink your ordered, hoping the alcohol would ease your frustration.

Brian’s lips quirked into a sympathetic smile, “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” That was a lie and both of you knew it.

You nodded, already nursing your next drink, these bartenders really did work at inhuman speeds “Right,” You said not believing his lie, “Where’s Fred and John?” You quipped.

“What, not curious about where the fourth member is?” Brian pressed, your silence caused him to put his hands up defensively “Only taking the piss.” He said, still smiling “Freddie is out back, and John is God knows where.”

You nodded your head before ordering another drink, back up if you will, and bidding Brian farewell before you pushed your way through the crowd to greet the host. Freddie was having a good time, per usual. You waved hello to him from the crowd of people, he yelled something you couldn’t hear over the music and reached for your hand pulling you into a warm friendly hug which you awkwardly returned given your hands were full. You handed Freddie your empty drink glass “What should I do with this?” You asked, he responded by taking the glass from your hand and throwing it out into the crowd of people, causing you to laugh while nursing your next drink.

You and Freddie laughed in your mutual drunken states “You know, darling, when Roger came back into the studio and mentioned how you said something about him banging on pots and pans I nearly died from laughter.” He said remembering the flushed and angry expression on his drummer’s face. “You know what I think?” He asked leaning into talk to you, you sipped your drink, looking up at Freddie wide eyed and pressing him to continue speaking “I think the two of you should fuck.”

You choked on your drink, coughing it all over the front of your shirt and wiping the dribble from your chin “What!” You asked in a shrill voice.

Freddie let out a bellowing laugh, “It would be brilliant, the two of you need a good fuck anyways.” He said trailing off at the end and taking a large sip from his highball glass.

“I can’t believe you would even suggest I sleep with that arrogant asshole.” You were honestly kind of offended that Freddie would group you with one of Roger’s lowly groupies.

“Hear me out, love.” He said, his stance wavering from the alcohol “Roger has had such a stick up his ass after quitting smoking and the divorce. I don’t think he’s gotten any decent pussy since we toured in the 80s and you? I don’t ever see you going home with any sort of eye candy.”

You rolled your eyes before you finished off your drink and set your glass on a table, “I don’t get any I’m the only female in a mostly male punk band, Fred.” You pointed out, using your now empty hands to light a cigarette, “I’m not even a lead, I just play bass.” You said blowing smoke out into the night sky.

“Oh rubbish, you’re a damn good bassist or John wouldn’t even give you the time of say.” What Freddie said was true. While John was harsh in his critiques, you knew it was only because he saw the raw talent you had.

You nodded your head only half listening to Freddie, your mind still caught up on trying to imagine how sex with Roger Taylor would be. A bitter frown crossed your lips, you would never fuck Roger Taylor, “I need a refill.” You huffed before promising Fred you would come back immediately after your drink. You pushed your way through the crowd, your arm raised as to not burn anyone with your lit cigarette. You tried desperately to find your bandmates, but alas due to the large crowd it was no use.

Either way, you needed another drink.

You quickly made you way to the bar back inside the house and ordered a shot of whiskey and chased it with a full beer before you ordered another mixed drink. The copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed were finally catching up to you, your face felt hot and flushed and your skin tingled delightfully. You hummed, sipping your drink and making your way to the bathroom to finally break the seal. After checking several of the first-floor bathrooms, only to find their handles locked you frowned in frustration and made your way up the stairs to the second level of Freddie’s mansion before you finally found an unlocked bathroom. You promptly went in and relieved yourself as you exited you ran into a surprisingly firm body, sloshing your drink and theirs on each other’s respective shirts “Who invited you here?” The voice sent a chill of frustration up your spine and to your alcohol flushed face.

You looked up, locking eyes with an equally intoxicated Roger Taylor, you huffed moving to push past him “Freddie did, the other members of your group actually seem to enjoy my company.” You said, once again moving to squeeze past him. Your efforts were to no avail, as he had firmly planted both hands on either side of the door, trapping you in the bathroom. “Get out of my way.” You said impatiently, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re always a right cunt you know that?” he said in a matter of fact tone.

You grit your teeth and clenched your drink harder “You’re the one that’s the cunt, maybe it’s all that groupie pussy that’s ruined your respect for women.”

Roger scoffed, here he was, nearly forty years old and throwing insults at some newbie punk rocker. “I don’t know if I’d call you a woman, maybe a failed guitarist sure, but a woman or lady not so much.” He said crossing his arms over his chest giving you a smug look.

“I think your sticks are too far up your ass, Taylor,” You spoke as you pushed past him. Before you had time to react you felt hands on your shoulders pushing you hard against with wall causing you drop the glass in your hands, allowing it to shatter on the ground and the breath to escape from your lungs, you groaned but didn’t know if it was from the pain of your back colliding with the wall behind you or from the adrenaline you felt rising in your veins and stomach.

Roger’s strong hands held you firmly against the wall and his calloused fingertips brushed against the skin on your collar causing a light shutter to run through your body “I have half a mind to shut you up right here.” He threatened, his usually bright blue eyes now clouding over with something much darker.

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the pressure of having his knee right between your legs, but you felt a sudden boldness “Do it,” You pressed, articulating your words and hoping to get a rise out of him.

With that, he pressed his lips against you with force, causing your teeth to clank together and your head to fall back, knocking against the wall. His roughness causing a sultry moan to slip from your lips, “You’re pathetic.” He hissed pulling your hair and tilting your head to expose your neck and leaving hot opened mouth kisses along your jawline to your neck where he harshly bit down causing you to shove him back.

Roger gripped tightly to your hips causing the two of you to stumble backwards from the force of your push “Take me to a bedroom and fuck me already.” You said impatiently. Freddie wouldn’t mind if the two of you had a quick romp in the sheets in one of his many bedrooms, after all he was the one that instigated the whole thing.

The two of you stumbled, a mess of tangled and drunken limbs as you fell back into the first open bedroom you could find. Roger flipped on the light switch, not breaking the kiss and revealing a large well decorated room with an equally large bed in the middle. He shut the door behind him with one arm and shoved you back onto the bed with the other. Your eyes caught your reflection in the side mirror, your hair was a mess accompanied by smeared make up and eyes clouded with lust.

You quickly slipped your boots off and lifted your hips to help Roger take your pants off. Quickly, he flipped you over and pushed you forward. You adjusted yourself, ass in the air and legs spread showing off your already wet pussy. Roger groaned looking at it and ran a finger through your slick folds “You truly are pathetic, you know that, [Y/N]? I’ve barely touched you and here you go making a mess all over Freddie’s sheets.” He inserted two fingers into you agonizingly slow and licked his lips feeling the tightness of you engulf him, “A shit bassist, shit song writer, shit musician, shit person…” He emphasized each of his words with the slow lazy thrusting of his fingers. You let out a choked sob, desperate for him to give you more, “What was that?” He asked smugly, “If you want to get fucked, you’re going to have to be louder for me.” He said before pulling his fingers out leaving you feeling empty.

You pushed back against hand, “No-” you said sharply. You spread your legs further and arched your back “Please,” you hated how he had complete control over the situation, but at the same time loved it.

“Please what?” He asked swiping the head of his cock between your damp folds, intently watching as your juices coated him.

“Fuck me.” You said softly, clenching the bedsheets.

He raised his hand and placed a sharp smack on your ass causing you to jolt “Ah, fuck. Just stick it in already Roger.” You hissed.

Without warning the blond lined up to your entrance and pushed in, not giving you time to adjust. He let out a choking groan, not expecting you to be as tight as you were, “Fucking Christ.” He hissed snapping his hips against yours with purpose.

You gripped the bedsheets and cried out, feeling him stretch your walls unapologetically. There was no foreplay and no care in how either of you handled each other, just wanton need mixed with the mutual resentment you had for each other.

Roger propped one of his legs up to angle deeper into you and leaned over, pushing the side of your face into the mattress as he relentlessly pounded into you, years upon years of frustration he couldn’t hold back. He fucked his failed marriage, arguments with the band, cigarette cravings, and the comments you made about how shitty you thought his drumming was into you as he drove you into the mattress. Your legs shook and eyes rolled into the back of your head from the pleasure you received from the new angle and you let out a string of garbled words neither of you could understand. “This whole party can probably hear how much of a slut you are.” He said slipping his thumb into your mouth to which you greedily sucked on, “I didn’t expect you to have such a tight pussy” He huffed and groaned feeling your walls flutter against him, “’Cos you seemed like such an easy lay.” He let out a breathless laugh, knowing how right he was.

Your arms had given out and were sprawled out in front of you and drool had started to dribble down your chin from Roger’s thumb pressing down on your tongue forcing your mouth open to hear your sinful cries, you knew your legs weren’t going to hold you up much longer and Roger knew that as well.

He quickly pulled out and flipped you over onto your back in a less than graceful manor before he hitched your legs over his hips and pushed himself back in, continuing his relentless pace. You reached your hand into his hair and tugged roughly on his while your other hand raked its nails down his back causing him to arch into your touch and his movement to faulter.

You were surprised to feel a hand slip between your legs and begin rubbing rough circles around your clit, guess chivalry wasn’t dead after all, you squirmed against his touch the stimulation almost becoming too much for you to handle. Your walls twitched, clamping down around Roger, earning a shuttering moan from him.

You were both close.

“R-Rog…” You let out a stuttering moan feeling your climax building in your gut.

“Come on, you can’t be that daft, use your words.” He huffed, gripping your chin to make you face him, “I want this whole party to know who’s fucked you by the time I’m done.” He said through gritted teeth.

You opened your eyes and your mouth hung ajar, breathing heavily as you made eye contact with the mess of a man before you. Roger’s shirt had ridden up, and his pants were half pulled down and accompanied by sweaty and matted hair, you hated how the look in his eyes caused your walls to clamp down hard on his cock, squeezing him as you reached your climax, yelling his name with a hoarse and cracked voice for the whole party downstairs to hear, and the face he made as clenched your thighs and hip and reached his own, releasing hot spurts of come into you. He hunched over you, letting out shaky breaths as he worked you through your orgasm. He hated you but wasn’t a monster.

Roger stopped and swallowed thickly while trying to catch his breath, you glanced over at the mirror seeing red scratched zig zagging on his back and sat in silence, wondering which one of you would cave first and break it. The drummer pulled out of you and tried to hide the whimper that escaped him at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his sensitive cock but failed, before he tucked himself back into his pants, “Still think you’re a bitch.” He said tucking his shirt back into his pants and tightening his belt.

“You’re a shit lay.” You tried to insult as you got up, steps wavering and some of the evidence of your prior actions leaking down the inside of your thigh.

Roger bit his lip at the sight and watched you pull your pants up, “Right and the whole crowd downstairs couldn’t hear your pathetic voice five minutes ago.” He said before turning to leave, giving you a short wave “Ta,” he said and left, walking downstairs with no shame.

Your hips ached as you walked to the bathroom to clean yourself up, you hated how that was your first penetrative orgasm, and you hated the ache between your legs, and you hated the smug look on Roger’s face after he left because the both of you knew he was probably the best lay you’ve had. But you couldn’t find it in you to be angry, not while in your post orgasm haze. You walked down the steps, taking it easy, and made your way to the bar and ordered a mixed drink to quench your thirst, desperately hoping that the stares you received weren’t because these strangers knew you just had been fucked so hard you could still feel the muscles in your legs twitching or that you could still feel the remains of your and Roger’s essence leaking out of you even after you cleaned yourself off.

You ordered a shot and a beer, quickly down the shot and moved to drink the beer before it was taken from your hands. You turned to see Freddie nursing what used to be your beer with a knowing smirk on his face, “[Y/N],” He said in a sing song voice.

“I didn’t fuck Roger” You said defensively.

Freddie grinned and handed you back your beer which you promptly drank out of “I didn’t say that, but you just confirmed.” He nudged your side, “Was it good? You know I caught Roger walking down the steps and he flashed me this grin.” He paused to order a drink, “And you know what I said to myself? I said, oh no Roger only makes that face after he fucked a good cunt. Then what do you know” He shrugged in an animated fashion “I see none other than you, darling, walking down the stairs, stiff as a board.” Freddie was about to continue rambling before you cut him off.

“I hate him.” You said placing a cigarette between your lips and lighting it, inhaling deeply.

Freddie practically ignored your comment, “But it was good wasn’t it?” Your silence was all he needed to answer “See!” He pointed out.

As the night continued so did your consumption of alcohol, you felt your drink being taken out of your hands and a blurry figure and closed on eye to focus your vision. It was a very pissed off Benny, “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since we got here.” He said, drinking your drink.

You whined and leaned onto Benny’s chest “Hey, I was drinking that.” Your words slurred together.

“You look like a mess.” He said wrapping an arm around you to help steady your poor balance, your make up was smeared, hair a mess, clothes wrinkled. But thankfully your drunken state covered for your earlier romp in the sheets. “We have to go home,” He said pulling you along, “Come on.”

Your steps wavered as you began walking out “Wait,” You said abruptly stopping, “I have to say bye to Fred.”

Benny rolled his eyes “You’ve been with Fred all night, I’m sure he’ll understand that we need to leave.” You let out a whiney protest, “It’s 4am, [Y/N]” he said as if pointing out the early hour in the morning was going to make you want to leave more.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and firmly stood your ground, “Fine, for god’s sake Joe go find Freddie.” Benny said running a frustrated hand through his hair.

To you what seemed like hours but was truly minutes passed and Freddie was before you, and equally as drunk mess as you were, hanging off Jim’s shoulder. The two of you held each other in a drunken embrace and Freddie kissed your cheek goodbye before Benny pulled you off.

As Benny and Joe practically pushed you into the car you caught sight of a familiar blonde who was also about to leave, you rolled your window down “Hey!” You shouted, catching Taylor’s attention “You’re a bitch!” You shouted, to which he flipped you the finger and yelled ‘fuck off’ as you and your bandmates drove away.

After dropping off your two other bandmates at home Benny draped your arm across his back and held you at the waist, as you struggled to stand. “’M gonna puke.” You said feeling your stomach doing flips and a sudden cold chill crawl up your spine and settle where your ears and jaw connected. You moved to kneel on the soft grass on the side of your parking area and your hair fell around your face as you retched, trying to use your arms to hold yourself up, they were so tired and your elbows jerked, threatening to give out.

Benny pulled your hair back, seeing a large and deep mark of varying shades of red and purple on your neck, “What the fuck is this?” He asked poking the side of your neck when you finished puking and started to regain your breath. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and mumbled some incoherent words, “What?” He asked again.

“I fucked Roger!” You said loudly, sitting back on the concrete.

“Ssshhh,” He said putting a hand over your mouth “You’re going to wake the whole bloody neighborhood.”

You swayed in your seated position and fell into Benny’s chest, “I fucked Roger,” You said in a loud whisper.

“Yeah, I got that much.” Benny said, hooking his arms under your shoulders and pulling you up with him, the two of you made the long arduous walk to up to your apartment building. Benny laid you in your bed and unlaced your boots, you let out a huff still frustrated with yourself, “Was it good at least?” your roommate asked while handing you a glass of water.

You sat up in your bed and gulped it down “Yes,” you said in a defeated voice “But it doesn’t change anything, I still can’t stand the bloody prick.”

Benny hummed “Right,” He said nodding his head and taking the glass from your hands, “We can talk more about this in a few hours, the birds are chirping.”

\---

When you awoke a few hours later you groaned, clutching your head feeling the insistent pounding of a hangover rattling through you and an ache between your legs, “Shit,” You said out loud remembering your actions from the night before. You got out of bed seeing you were still in last night clothes and slipped into an oversized tee shirt and put on some sunglasses to help shield your eyes from the bright light of day before you shuffled out of your bedroom and into the bathroom to find something to curb your headache.

You grabbed the pill bottle of over the counter pain killer and made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water and were greeted by your bandmates all in your living room. You opened your mouth to issue an apology for being a drunken mess last night but before you could get words out Joe interrupted you “Don’t worry, Haz puked all over the nice tile near Freddie’s pool right before we left so you weren’t the worst off.” Haz hid his face bashfully and nodded at you feeling your pain.

You grabbed a glass of water and made yourself comfortable in your usual spot in the living room, not caring that you weren’t wearing pants. You were comfortable enough with your bandmates and paid half the rent here so you really should be able to do whatever you damn well pleased in the place you called home. Much to your dismay you were already thrown a heap of questions “So I heard you fucked Roger last night.” Joe said bluntly.

You paused bringing your glass of water to your mouth to drink and were thankful your sunglasses hid your expression, “Yeah we fucked. What of it?” You asked defensively.

Joe made a face and put his hands up, “I was only making conversation.” He muttered bringing up his cup of tea before drinking it.

You were not going to hear the end of it.


	2. We Can Hate Each Other in the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Signing onto EMI records in the mid 80′s should have been a dream come true for Reader and her punk band, but she finds herself bubbling over with rage every time she interacts with the drummer from the successful rock band that records down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves! I have exciting news! I decided to make this a four part series instead of three! I hope I am not rushing this fic too much or making the chapters too dense. I really appreciate all of the feedback I’ve gotten on the last chapter and comments! This can be read as Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor, also if you guys were wondering which era this is for, it is 100% for mullet era Roger with the square black sunglasses because it’s my favorite hair era.

Weeks had passed since Freddie’s party and you had no interaction with Roger, which you told yourself you were happy about but the continuous ache between your legs protested. The album was close to finishing which meant a single would be released soon so you and the boys had been working double time in the studio to pump out the best song for your first single. However, with the pressure of a deadline looming in the air and your own sexual frustrations, tensions were at an all time high. “Take seven,” Your producer said clicking on the recording.

You clenched your fists around the neck of your bass, you were going to explode “Stop speeding us up,” You snapped whipping around to face Benny, “You know how this shit is supposed to sound, you bloody wrote it.” your patience was wearing thin and it didn’t help that you were group recording this one.

“I fucking wrote it so maybe you are the one who’s slowing down.” He snapped back. The only person in this band that could rival your temper was Benny.

“The both of you are fucking up, Benny you’re speeding up and [Y/N] you’re slowing down. Now shut up so we can finish this take and go home.” Joe snapped at the both of you.

“Take eight,” the producer said lazily into the mic; he too wanted to go home.

Your next few takes went with minor hiccups, thankfully, and after that the band had decided to work on individual parts which you were relieved to hear. You walked out of the recording room and sat in one of the recording room seats, leaning back and patting your pockets for your pack of cigarettes “Fuck,” You said frowning, “I’ll be back I forgot my smokes in the car.”

You got the back from the cup holder in the front seat and lit up a cigarette as you walked in, catching Roger’s gaze as he walked out of the recording studio. You both froze in your spots, the studio and outside doors swinging behind the two of you almost in tandem. The cigarette you had just lit dangled loosely from your lips and the smoke rose to the ceiling while you and Roger maintained eye contact daring the other to move. Your stomach clenched while the two of you stared at each other for an impossibly long time before he finally broke the silence “You look like shit, maybe you should stop smoking those things.” He scoffed.

You hummed taking a long drag of your cigarette and blowing the smoke out as you talked “You know, I was going to say the same thing and then realized it’s just your face since you quit smoking.” You added a cheeky closed mouthed smile for good measure.

Roger put his hands on the men’s bathroom door and rolled his eyes, shaking his head, “You know I can’t fucking stand you.” He said watching you walk towards him.

You boldly walked up to him now chest to chest “I loathe every minute I have to spend talking to you.” You said blowing more cigarette smoke in his face.

Roger looked down at you and brushed the smoke from his face “I can think of a better use for your mouth than all that back chat.” He retorted.

You pursed your lips and felt the all too familiar ache between your legs return, “Hell will freeze over before I put that cock of yours in my mouth.” Your barely trusted the tone of your voice as you spoke.

Roger smirked, hearing your voice waver as you answered him, “You know it’s oftly cold outside.” He said turning towards you and slowly backing into the men’s bathroom.

Your body was at odds with itself as you watched him backing into the bathroom, your mind screamed to ignore his advances while the ache between your legs caused you to follow him. Once the door closed Roger quickly pinned you against it, roughly pushing his lips against yours and moving his hand to lock the dead bolt. He used his knee to push your legs apart and you promptly ground against his thigh, letting out a whimper into his mouth. He smirked and let out a breathless laugh and brushed your hair out of your face “I bet you haven’t gotten off since we last fucked,” He said and trailed kisses down to your neck, sucking on the almost faded spot and bringing out the bruised discoloration against your skin. You tilted your neck hoping he would kiss it more and continued to rub yourself against his thigh, “You’re so desperate for it aren’t you?” he asked while pushing your hips down and grinding them against his thigh. Roger gripped a fist full of your hair and held it to the side as he continued to kiss and suck on your neck leaving more dark spots in his wake “Tell me how pathetic you are.” He said before biting down on your shoulder.

You gasped, knowing you truly were putty in his hands “I’m pathetic.” You choked out.

“Why are you pathetic?” He asked holding your hips still, ceasing the friction and pleasure you desperately craved. You ignored his question and let out a defeated whine, leaning your head back and fighting his grip“Come on, we both know why,” he said harshly moving you to face him.

Your eyes were glazed over, and your mouth hung slightly ajar, “Be… because” you swallowed thickly and a sharp squeeze to the hair at the base of your scalp told you to hurry up with the answer “Because I’m a slut.”

Roger hummed in contentment before he pulled away and motioned for you to kneel on the ground. Your knees felt uncomfortable against the cold hard tile but that was the least of your problems now. You had been gone far too long for it to be considered a cigarette break anymore and hoped that your bandmates wouldn’t need you anytime soon.

Roger unzipped his pants and pulled out his half hard cock, tip glistening with precome and twitching with excitement. You licked your lips at the sight and hungrily gripped him firmly in your hand pumping him and licking the tip, not wasting any time. He leaned his arms back on the sink counter behind him and sighed at your touch. Your mouth engulfed him, and your hand covered what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and together they worked in tandem as you bobbed your head to set a decent pace. Roger was far too impatient for that though, you could tell as his hips bucked against your mouth and grip, he wanted to take control but was holding back for the sake of being in the moment.

You took both your hands and placed them on either side of his hips for balance as you sank further down his length, gaging and pulling back. “You can do better than that.” He said hoarsely while looking down at you.

The sight of his pouty pink lips and reddened cheeks made you clench your thighs together. You were determined now, swallowing him once again. Your determination vanished when Roger grabbed either side of your head and pushed you down without warning. You sputtered and gagged against him with tears collecting in the corner of your eyes and he groaned feeling your throat constrict around his hardened length. He pulled your head back and gripped your hair tightly before he started thrusting into your mouth at an unforgiving pace. Roger’s fingers scraped against your scalp causing you to groan against him, the vibrations electing a response from him as well.

Tears freely streamed down your face and drool had begun to seep from the corners of your mouth and down your chin, causing your neck to glisten from the wetness. The blonde above you was in his own world, head thrown back and mouth hanging open as soft breathy moans fell from his lips. You tapped his thighs hoping for some time to breathe which he graciously granted. You huffed, letting ragged breaths escape your lips and kissed the exposed parts of his thighs before gripping his cock again, pumping it in your hand, and beginning to suck on his balls.

Instinctively, Roger spread his legs allowing his pants to fall further down and allowing you better access. He swallowed thickly feeing the warmth of your mouth and looking down to see you staring up at him, eyes red, watery, and full of hunger. He pulled you back by your hair, your mouth open and tongue still hanging out, and gripped his cock lightly slapping it against your flat tongue before he slipped it back into your mouth.

Your knees burned and his pace sputtered as he continued to face fuck you in the recording studio bathroom. You knew he was close from how his thighs tensed under your hands and his cock twitched in your mouth, Roger let out a breathy moan and his face scrunched while he clenched his thighs harder “Fuck, so close.” He mumbled, the sound of his ragged voice causing you to let out a moan of your own. The vibrations were enough to send him over the edge, with little warning he burst in your mouth. You swallowed down what you could, some leaked from the corners of your mouth and down his chin as you continued to suck him off through is orgasm. He twitched from the sensitivity and pulled you off. He huffed catching his breath and running a hand through his hair. Roger brought his hand to your face; out of habit you began to pull back but paused out of curiosity. He used his thumb to swipe the come that had leaked from your mouth from your chin and popped his thumb in between your swollen lips. You greedily sucked on them, swirling your tongue around his calloused thumb pads. He pulled his thumb from your mouth with a lewd ‘_pop_’ and wiped his hand on his pants.

He cleared his throat “Come by later if you want me to finish you off.” He said, fixing himself and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

You quirked your head, still kneeling on the hard floor, the ache in your knees finally settling in, “What?” You asked, shocked he would even offer such a thing to you.

“Do you want to get off or not? I hate you, but I’m not a monster [Y/N]” He scoffed and moved to unlock the door.

You got off the floor and shifted your stance, “All right.” You said and nodded your head curtly, “After recording then.” You added.

Roger nodded his head before leaving, you waited a few minutes, checking yourself in the mirror and fixing your appearance before you followed suit. Upon your reentry to the studio room your bandmates all stared at you as you walked in “Long smoke break.” Joe quipped.

You shrugged your shoulders “Guess I got lost…” You said trailing off and sitting back down in one of the chairs, kicking your feet up on the coffee table in the back.

Benny smirked, stifling a laugh “Lost in the men’s bathroom?” He asked before he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Your face felt hot with embarrassment and quickly covered your face, “Fuck off,” You muttered, crossing your arms and spinning the chair away from the view of your bandmates, “Doesn’t one of you need to go into the booth?” You retorted.

You watched as Haz got up, laughing and walking into the booth. You shook your head still a bit flustered from the banter of your bandmates.

\---

Through the remainder of the night your bandmates poked fun at you and the end of your recording session couldn’t come quick enough. But when it did the feeling of anticipation began to build in your stomach. You waved your bandmates goodbye from your car where you spotted a piece of paper stuck to your windshield “I’ll catch up with you all later.” You said waving them off as they drove off to the bar for the night.

“Gonna go get a shag?” Benny asked from the driver seat.

“Yeah,” You answered bluntly, why else would you pass up an opportunity to drink? You grabbed the neatly folded up piece of paper and unfolded it. It was just as you assumed, Roger’s chicken scratch adorned the scrap paper with his address. You nodded to yourself, knowing the general area and headed off.

His house was as big as you expected it to be, he was a world-famous rock star after all. You didn’t know proper etiquette for hooking up with one though, so you parked your car on the street and walked up the footpath to his front door and knocked on it. Roger answered the door in a pair of reading glasses, tee shirt, and lounge pants; he looked incredibly domestic. It was a sight that caused your heart to ache, you quickly ignored whatever that feeling was and walked in as he stepped off to the side to let you in, “Want a drink?” He asked in an attempt to make conversation.

You nodded your head, afraid your voice would give away your desperate cravings for release. Roger poured you a glass of dark liquor with no ice. You sipped it, you could only assume it was expensive scotch by the taste. You followed him through the house, taking in all the little things on his walls, from pictures to his kids to memorabilia and collectables until you came to the master bedroom. You had thought the room you first fucked in was big, but that didn’t compare to the size of Roger’s bedroom. In the time it took you to get to the room you had found your glass empty, thankful you accepted the liquid courage, “You should slow down, drinking that fast could get you in trouble.” He commented taking the glass from your hands and setting the both of yours down on a table.

You shrugged “Nothing I can’t get myself out of.” You retorted softly.

Roger hummed, shifting from side to side and pulling you close to him by your hips “Hm, your comebacks are lacking,” He said in a low voice, “Maybe I did show you a better use for that mouth of yours after all.” He added lightly kissing your jaw. You moaned under his touch and the memory from earlier. His touches were soft and unlike the ones from when you first fucked and unlike earlier in the bathroom. Here he knew he could take his time with you.

Roger kept his hands anchored on your hips and walked backwards, pulling you along, until the back of his knees hit the side of the bed. He turned and pushed you back on it and wasted no time taking your pants off. You sat before him clad in only your tee shirt and panties, hopefully this time he would get your shirt off too.

You pushed yourself back further onto the bed and adjusted yourself at the pillows, so you were sitting at an angle while Roger settled between you’re legs. He softly pressed his hands to your knees and spread them apart, giving him a view of your dampened panties. Your face flushed with embarrassment, the two of you had barely started to pick up from where you’d left off and here you were with ruined panties already. Roger’s tongue darted out, moistening his lips before he hooked his finger around the crotch of them and pulled them to the side. You gasped and jolted feeling his knuckles brush lightly against your sensitive skin and spread your legs further apart. You knew what was coming, but you didn’t know if you had mentally prepared yourself enough to be eaten out by the drummer before you.

While one of his fingers held your panties to the side, his other swiped at your entrance, coating his digits in your juices; you looked so needy, face hot and pupils dilated from arousal. There was something about being needed that caused a surg of gratification bubble through Roger, it had been ages since there was this much primal want in his sex life and he was relishing in it.

He’d barely even noticed how lost in thought he was until your high-pitched whines and wiggling hips pulled him from his mind. Quickly, he slipped your panties off and placed his thumb to your clit, harshly rubbing on the swollen nub in circles. The calloused finger pad of his thumb scraped against your sensitive nub causing a wonderful sensation to begin to build. But as quick as the feeling came it was gone, you whined and arched your hips silently begging for more, but your whines were cut short, feeling Roger flatly licking at your entrance. You let out a choked moan and allowed your legs to go slack before running your fingers through his soft and tangled hair. He settled on your clit, wrapping his lips around it, sucking and letting out a soft content groan after finally having tasted you; you shuttered and scraped your fingers against his scalp so desperately trying to find something to anchor yourself onto causing him to groan in response.

Roger’s tongue lazily danced around your core, your back arched and you rolled your hips in tandem with his tongue. He hooked his arms under your hips and anchored you in position, not allowing you to move. You desperately tried to though and as his fingers harshly dug into the skin of your hips and thighs you couldn’t help but look down at him. You opened your eyes and craned your neck looking down to see Roger’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked harshly on your swollen and sensitive clit. His eyes were clouded over, hiding the natural brightness of them behind something much more deviant.

He inserted a finger into you, expertly hooking it against the top of your walls while he continued to lap at your wet pussy. You felt tension building in your stomach and felt your walls flutter around his fingers as he pumped them in and out of you. The loud sounds of your wetness and his lewd slurping sounded better to your ears than any music you’d ever heard. You bucked your hips and pushed his face further between your legs and let out a shuttering breath feeling his fingers wriggling inside you, “Fuck, Roger.” You whined feeling the tension that had been building inside you for so long beginning to wear thin and threatened to snap.

Your face twisted with pleasure as you watched him, eyes closes and hair a mess, feverishly lapping his tongue against your clit. He let go of you and you ground your hips in tandem with his motions, letting out a string of breathy moans and scraping your fingers through his hair.

He let out a long moan feeling your finger nails scraping against his head and tugging at his hair and your thighs immediately clamped around the sides of his face, flexing and squeezing as you reached your peak. However, Roger’s ministrations did not cease in the slightest. Your hips jerked back, and you tried to pull away, the over stimulation almost becoming too much for you to bare but his arms hooked around your legs, once again anchoring you in your spot.

You grit your teeth, “Rog- Rog, please” You whimpered helplessly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and you felt your climax beginning to build again. His fingers squelched as they pumped rapidly in and out of your wet walls while he alternated between licking and sucking on your now overstimulated clit. Your torso twisted and you tugged on his hair “Roggie, I-” the pet name slipped from your mouth and didn’t go unnoticed by Roger, he let out a moan feeling your walls twitch against his fingers. He curled them, rubbing against the top of your wall and effortlessly slipping between your folds. Your wetness splattered and leaked out onto his wrist and sheets as well as generously covered his chin.

You dug one hand into the plush pillows behind you and your back arched as you neared yet another orgasm without having fully recovered from the first, your breaths were ragged and short as you neared the edge, threatening to plummet at any moment. When you reached your climax, it was unlike anything you had felt before, your back arched sharply and you harshly gripped a fist full of Roger’s hair and your mouth opened, letting out a silent scream. Roger pulled away, moving his fingers harder and faster as you gushed onto his wrists and the sleeves of his shirt. He let out a shuttering groan, watching you writhe in pleasure before he went back between your legs and licked you clean.

You slumped back against the pillows, limbs limp and chest rising rapidly, still feeling your walls twitch from the aftershock. In your post orgasm haze, you hadn’t even noticed Roger left the room until you felt the side of the bed dip under the newly added weight. He sat between your legs with a cloth, cleaning the wetness off your thighs, the closer he got to your core the more your stomach twitched with anticipation.

“You made such a mess.” Roger tutted as he playfully tapped at your swollen and hypersensitive folds. You hissed, jerking your hips away, “But I’ll let you rest up a bit.” His voice was hushed and surprisingly comforting, but the idea of going another round astonished you. You could hardly hold yourself up much less go for a good fucking, especially if it was anything like the first time.

“Are we going at it again?” You asked, your voice was raw.

Roger quirked a brow at you, “Thought we were, unless you can’t handle it.” All the comfort was gone from his voice. It brought you back to the reality of your relationship with the blond man before you.

You scoffed, still not having the energy to move “Right,” you said as your head lazily rolled to face him, your cheeks were lightly flustered and your eyes still were glazed over from your post orgasm high, “I can take your worse, Taylor.”

Roger liked your response, in fact it caused a fire to ignite in his belly, “I definitely don’t know if you can handle that,” He teased “You can barely move after what just happened.” He nodded to the wet stain on the bedsheets.

You sat up to prove a point and crossed your arm, frowning, now overcome with embarrassment, “Fuck off.” You muttered turning away from him.

The blond let out a soft laugh before reaching over and lightly cupping your chin and pulling you to face him. His lips captured yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. Your mouths molded together, and you instinctively tilted your head while turning your body to face him. Roger teasingly took your lower lip in his mouth and sucked on it before giving you a few short kisses and pulling away. His hand stayed cupping your face, a strangely tender and romantic gesture.

His azure eyes held a mischievous sparkle in them, something livelier than how they normally looked when the two of you had your usual stair offs and the ghost of a smile played on his lips. You lightly closed your eyes and sighed, resting your head in his palm while he stroked little circles on your cheek bone.

Truth be told, the two of you probably argued so much due to your mutual craving for intimacy. For the last several years you had engaged in what you could hardly call sex, a few innocent flings here and there while out playing gigs while your bandmates typically raked in body after body. You missed feeling wanted and the tender touches that came along with it. While Roger ran out of his playboy days in the late 70s before having children and marrying for their sake. His marriage failed and his sex life staled, constantly getting the cold shoulder in bed even when it came to things like cuddling. Roger yearned to be wanted again.

Roger pushed you back and crawled over top of you before settling between your legs. He played with the hem of your shirt before pushing it up, letting his rough hands grip at your bare sides. You let out a soft whimper before pulling your shirt up and throwing it off to the side, your bra soon followed. The drummer leaned back, biting his lip and taking in the sight of your body before him. If it were any other person, he might have commented on their beauty, but you weren’t any person. You were practically his nemesis, yet here he was marveling at you.

Roger’s unreadable gaze caused a wave of self-consciousness to wash over you and your hands reached up to cover your chest, shielding it from his view. The blonde quirked an eyebrow at you before lightly touching the backs of your wrists, the touch was soft despite his calloused fingertips and reassuring. As you moved your hands down, Roger moved to kiss your neck, peppering light and feathery kisses down you neck to your collarbone and between the valley between your breasts. He moved to one side, engulfing your breast with his mouth. You chewed on your lip to keep your noises in and brushed some of his long hair from his eyes. His tongue swirled around your hardening nipple and he left light nips causing you to gasp while twisting and pinching the other with his hand.

You hummed delightedly, allowing your head to fall back and tense shoulders to relax at his soft touches. You found your hands roaming his back, slipping underneath it and drawing light patterns on his skin while Roger’s fingers found their way to your still sensitive core. You jolted feeling him tentatively place a finger at your entrance; he pulled away from his kisses and moved back up, kissing under your chin “I’ll take it easy on you, this time.” He whispered playfully in your ear before pulling away to quickly discard his clothing.

Roger leaned back and lightly pumped his cock in his hands, now bare before you. He wasn’t particularly lean or muscular, but there was hints of definition in his arms and shoulders from years of drumming. He used two of his fingers to spread your folds, exposing yourself to him and lightly tapped his cock against you. You let out a few staccato breaths and your hip twitched at the feeling before you let out a breathy sigh once he finally inserted himself.

This time he waited a moment to allow for the both of you to gather your bearings before he hovered over you, caging your body with his arms on either side of your head. He pursed his lips and grunted as he thrust into you, his pace was slow but firm which caused your body to rock with him and push you into the pillows. The blond reached a shaky hand up and brushed your messy hair from your face, using his thumb to trace the outline of your lower lip before he popped it into your mouth. You rubbed your tongue on the underside of his finger pad and greedily sucked on it as his pace began to pick up.

Neither of you had uttered much more than a sputtering moan up until this point; the two of you could go back to hating each other afterwards, right now it was just nice to be held by someone.

When the two of you finished Roger kept his arms firmly around you and his face buried in your hair. His breathing steadied and you lightly traced your fingers in an aimless pattern on his back. The silence was content and the air around the two of you was calm.

\---

In the following weeks things had returned to normal, you and Roger didn’t discuss what had happened the night you went over to his house and shared that tender and intimate moment with him. Instead the two of you continued to let your loneliness and cravings stew, only letting them escape when you hurled insults at each other. You desperately tried to ignore your thoughts of Roger and the images and sounds that were engrained in your mind and channel all your effort into finishing the album with your bandmates and the upcoming gig at a decently sized venue in the city.

Joe, Haz, and Benny sat at their usual spots at the recording panel while you plucked your part out to the song playing back your headphones. The goal was to release the album in late November, that was the start of post-punk season after all especially in cloudy and cold cities like the one you called home. As it was nearing early spring your manager had booked several spread-out local gigs to generate a profit and add hype so you all could pay for a tour that followed. hopefully, the album release and tonight was the night of one of those concerts.

The stage persona you took on wasn’t anything special but was out of your usual style. You opted for an all-black look right down to your lipstick, the only contrast was your bass and the white strap you usually had it hooked on.

Haz absentmindedly spun from side to side in his seat “We should probably tell her.” He mentioned.

The two other men turned and looked at him “What” Joe asked giving a quizzical look.

“You know, that we invited our recording neighbors to the gig tonight.” Haz was honestly kind of shocked that they didn’t find the matter as pressing as he did.

Benny shook his head in protest, “Absolutely not.” He said, “She’ll throw a fit if she knows Roger is going to be there.” He paused and crossed his arms over his chest before leaning back “You know he’s only coming to get a rise out of her.”

Joe shook his head, still intently watching you play, off in your own world, “Hopefully she’ll get her head out of her ass soon. If I hear her complain about breathing the same air as Rog I’m going to lose my god damn mind.” He rolled his eyes thinking about how often you mentioned the drummer of Queen in your day to day conversation and the nit-picky reasons you had to complain about him.

After you finished your session you, the boys, and a few roadies loaded up what was left for the vans and drove off to the venue. You had a little over four hours left to get ready, it sounded like a long while, but it truly wasn’t. Not when it was spent mostly running around and making sure everything was in order. You were only thankful that there wasn’t a sound check that also had to be completed, that had been done much too early in the morning.

You stood in front of the mirror, brows furrowed and focused as you draw on your heavy black winged eyeliner, making sure the wings were sharp enough to kill a man if need be and smiled contently to yourself.

You knew you looked good in your costume, a right gothic queen.

Before you knew it you and your bandmates were rushed off to the stage with 15 minutes left before you had to go on. You felt your stomach drop upon catching a tall head of curly long hair and desperately hoped it wasn’t who you thought it was. But much to your dismay, it was Brian and in fact all of Queen was there waiting at the wing of the stage. You paused turning to look at Benny who was behind you, “Why are they here.” You whispered sharply.

A guilty look flashed in Ben’s eyes “Joe invited them to see. They’ve never seen us perform.” His answer sounded sheepish and riddled with guilt.

You flared your nostrils and pursed your lips thinking of something to say. You couldn’t think of anything nice, so you flashed a forced smile “Fine,” You said inhaling deeply and blowing it out, “Lets go on then,” You said turning on your heel.

As you approached the internationally acclaimed band you gave them all an acknowledging nod and a small smile. Freddie’s eyes widened “Darling, you look ravishing.” He said putting his hands on your shoulders forcing you to be square with his chest.

You looked away bashfully “I’ve got to put on a show, especially with performing with this lot.” You said thumbing at the three guys behind you, “Give the crowd something to look at.” You winked at Freddie, feeling a sudden surge of confidence once your ears registered the crowd behind the curtain. The band had a decent following, it wasn’t anything too big especially since the band was just now starting to pick up serious headwind after catching EMI’s eye.

Your eyes quickly darted over at Roger, sneaking a glance and hoping to gauge his reaction, but it was to no avail as he was wearing those stupid sunglasses of his. Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed upon feeling your mood sour. You told the other three members of Queen to enjoy the show, your lips taut in a fake smile and walked on stage.

Being on stage cleared your mind of any ill thoughts that you harbored before the show and you only focused on your playing. Rhythmically plucking your bass along to the unapologetically loud music and adding some carefully placed feedback to amp up the crowd. The louder they were the more adrenaline rushed through you and your bandmates.

Your lead singer Joe was truly a showman. As the lead singer of your punk group, riling up the crowd and getting them to be loud and at times destructive was what helped stir that chaos that your shows were known for.

Benny, though he was typically confined to the stool behind his drum kit was quite a presence as well. He often broke or dropped his sticks from the vigor, promptly throwing them in the crowd whenever he had a chance to get up. As for Haz, while he was typically the softer spoken and more emotional of your bandmates, watching him playing on stage was a total 180 from his true persona. Once a guitar was put in his hands and he put on that heavy dark eyeliner it awoke something within him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stage dive into the crowd or to go home with a few ladies on his hip.

Being the only woman and bass player in a punk band was quite a heavy burden seeing as the profession was dominated by men. But with that given, you didn’t give a fuck about what people thought of you on stage, you often left your shirts almost totally unbuttoned and allowed the sleeves to loosely droop down your shoulders and arms, exposing your bra. The harsh dark makeup you wore pulled the whole persona together of being a brash and unapologetic woman. This typically didn’t sit well for most men that saw your shows.

A very successful show called for an even more successful after party, which your manager had booked at a popular club on the main strip downtown. You were grateful for the VIP room; seeing as the number of guests you had invited included a few bigger names, mainly Queen. You hadn’t even bothered to change and instead opted to make a b line straight for the club and then the bar. You quickly lit a cigarette and ordered a drink while waiting for the others to arrive, the first was John thankfully. He was always down for a drink.

With the wave of his hand he ordered a round of shots for the two of you to celebrate the show, “You’ve been practicing, yeah?” John asked not even wincing after the shot of the harsh brown liquid.

You nodded your head intently “Yeah, I’ve been working on finger picking.” You had always hated using picks and enjoyed the sound you got from using your hands, “Fingers aren’t quite used to it yet though.” You laughed lightly.

John nodded his head in agreement knowing your pain and politely thanking you for the cigarette you offered. As the two of you smoked and drank while making conversation over the music, your eyes caught the large group that had arrived. Through the crowd of people, you picked out Roger’s blond hair and immediately frowned.

It was a frown that didn’t go unnoticed by John, but he still chose to mind his own business before mentioning how the two of you should join the others in the back room. The room was dimly lit and had a private bar in the back, the soon spacious room began to feel more and more cramped as bodies flooded in. Despite it being an after party for your band you took the liberty to limit yourself and your drinks for the night to allow for your bandmates to celebrate and let loose after being a hot mess at Freddie’s party.

You and a few of the girls that regularly followed your band danced while you tried to wingman for the boys even though they really didn’t need it. It wasn’t until you felt hands gripping your hips and swaying with you that your attention was pulled from them. You craned your neck, half hoping it was Roger, just so you could throw an insult at him. But instead you were met with a handsome faced man you hadn’t recognized before “Hi.” You peeped out.

It wasn’t often that you were approached at parties by an attractive man. He was tall, a bit on the lankier side, and wore dark colored clothing with his hair spiked; a typical punk boy. You turned to dance with him, swaying and grinding your hips along with his and not even bothering to catch his name. His hand slipped between your loosely buttoned shirt and fingers danced around the lower band of your bra. You rested your head back on his shoulder and your breathing hitched in his ear while you ground your hips harder into him.

Your body suddenly lurched forward causing you to bump into the person in front of you, their drink spilling all down your front. You turned around, fuming, and locked eyes to a defensive Roger Taylor, his hands up apologizing for running into the nameless man you were dancing with.

You hated his sunglasses that he wore inside and the way his nose sometimes twitched when he talked. His perfectly soft skin and hair caused your blood to boil, and the bright azure of his eyes enraged you. Not to mention Roger’s articulate speech and the faces he made as he drummed while glistening with sweat made your eyes flash with rage.

Your eyes clouded with anger and you boldly walked up to him, chest to chest, the man you were dancing with now forgotten “What the fuck is your problem, Taylor?” You shouted over the music.

He shrugged “Guess it’s just too crowded in here.” He said, “Sorry for interrupting your slutty moment, better let you get back to it.” He said waving you off.

You turned around only to find the crowd had shifted, swallowing the mystery man up and replacing him with a new set of people. You clenched your jaw and your nostrils flared when you turned to face Roger again “You’re a fucking prick you know that?” You said tapping your finger against his chest.

The blond peered over your shoulder and gave you a mockingly sad look “He’s gone, aw sad.” He apologized but there was obviously no sympathy in his voice.

The crowd pushed the two of you closer and closer together, forcing the two of you to once again stand chest to chest, “I can’t stand you, you really do know how to ruin a good time.” You shouted over the music feeling your anger beginning to fizzle and pop, threatening to spill over. You hated how his expression was unreadable beneath the glasses and all you could see what his condescending smirk “If you weren’t wearing those stupid things, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten that drink spilled on me.” You huffed, trying to move away.

You really had no idea why or how it had gotten so crowded; there was no clear path of escape from this interaction with your nemesis. Roger hummed lightly, you could feel the rumbling in his chest on your hands that were pressed against it “No wonder you were hanging around those groupies, you’re just as easy as them.” He shifted his stance and allowed his hands to rest on your hips, “I’m surprised anyone actually came, you’re show was truly terrible.” He shook his head in disbelief, “It probably would have been better if you turned your amp down, no one wanted to hear that shit bass line of yours anyways.”

You clenched your fists around the fabric of Roger’s shirt “It’s a shame no one can turn down your drumming, really is the worst part of your whole group.” You made a sympathetic face and pouted your lips.

Roger mocked being in ponderous thought, “Oh!” He quipped, the shifting of the crowd was now causing the two of you to involuntarily rock against each other “When I heard you lot playing that one song, can’t even remember the name of it, but I couldn’t figure out why it sounded so terrible.” He said as he pulled your hips closer to his, breathing getting more and more ragged “But when Freddie pointed out how you wrote it, it all made perfect sense. Should really take it out of the lineup, love.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you roughly pulled on his shirt, jerking his head forward and causing it to bump against yours as the two of you feverishly kissed. Your tongues and teeth clanked together while your hands desperately roamed each other’s bodies. You pulled away and kissed down Roger’s neck and shoulders to his chest which was exposed seeing as he never knew how to button a shirt, and you left hot open mouthed kissed and gently nipped at the soft skin. As you kissed his chest you felt his hand dip between your legs, wasting no time and rubbing over your clothed core while you boldly licked a stripe up his chest, tasting the salt of his sweat.

Roger turned you around and held your hips firmly against his growing erection while his head dipped into the crook of your neck. While the two of you swayed, he licked and nipped at the exposed skin while his hand dipped beneath your skirt. Your head rested against his shoulder and leaned back onto him, never having been more thankful that you’d chosen to wear a skirt in your entire life. Your chest rose and fell as breathing became more and more rapid from his fingers toying with your clit. Roger hummed in amusement, “I told you, you were easy, look how wet you are.” He said and pulled his fingers out from between your legs and drug them across your lips before plunging them into your mouth.

You moaned tasting yourself and sucked on his fingers before he removed them and placed them back between your legs, “I bet I can make you come, right here in front of all these people.” He said using two fingers to strum at your swollen clit. You bucked your hips into the bulge growing in his pants and he groaned in response, “Be shame if what’s his name were to see you like this,” he grunted into your ear, voice straining while he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

A sudden surge of adrenaline ripped through your body and your walls fluttered around Roger’s fingers from the thought of the man you had previously been dancing with seeing you and Roger in this predicament and a whimper escaped your lips. Roger pulled away to look at your face “You look fucking pathetic.” He said before leaning over to capture your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. He swallowed your desperate whimpers and you ground your hips into his hand as he expertly poked and prodded around you.

Roger’s own hips grinding into your ass, desperate to relieve some of the tension that had begun to build up within the confines of his jeans. Your walls twitched around his fingers and you soon began to lose all focus on your heated exchange of kisses, your mouth hung open while Roger’s remained close to yours, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he pushed you over the edge in the middle of the dance floor. Your walls pulsated around him and his pace slowed, working you through and prolonging your orgasm for as long as he could before he pulled them out and licked them clean, letting out a sinfully content groan.

You swallowed thickly, “You’re so fucking arrogant.” You said in a shaky voice.

He gave you a cheeky grin, “Can’t help it when I know I’m good, love.”

You averted his sunglass covered gaze and sheepishly looked around to see if anyone had noticed, you sighed in relief when you noticed everyone either engaged in conversation or too drunk to notice. Roger let go of your hip and began to pull away, a ghost of a frown playing on your lips which was quickly forgotten when he dropped down to whisper, “Meet me in the bathroom in five.”

Deep down inside, you knew you were better than a quick bathroom fuck, but there was something so enticing about knowing there was a crowded room just beyond the door that caused you to meet Roger in the men’s bathroom in exactly five minutes. Roger had been eagerly waiting to see you walk through that door and before you knew it he’d pulled your bra down, breasts in full view as he propped your up on the counter and began to pump into you. He groaned feeling your wetness around his hard cock and seeing your tits bouncing in tandem with his thrusts. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or how tight you were, but either way he was not going to last very long.

Your lower back dug into the into the back of the counter, being rubbed raw from the friction but all thought of that fled from your mind when you felt Roger’s rough fingers furiously strumming at your clit. “Ah, fuck, Roger.” You gasped, leaning back on your elbows.

A knock at the door, brought you back to reality, but not Roger, “I got to piss!” The voice shouted from the other side of the locked door.

Roger gripped your hips harder “Ah, fuck.” He gasped through gritted teeth “Bugger off, it’s occupied.” He shouted over his shoulder. The unknown voice muttered back a response that neither you or Roger paid much attention. Roger pulled out of you and turned you over, pushing you forward into the sink; you looked up into the mirror and caught sight of Roger drilling into you, his mouth hanging slightly ajar and sunglasses pushing his hair back as they crookedly balanced on his head; your dark dramatic makeup now smeared tastelessly across your face. Roger’s breathing became ragged and his thrusts began to lose their rhythmic pace and he leaned over, pulling you close against his chest and rutting into you. He grit his teeth together and groaned, releasing his seed into you, thrusting softly to work himself through his climax. He swallowed thickly and pulled out, spreading your cheeks and getting a view of his fluids leaking out of your core before he fixed himself.

You turned your back to the mirror and lifted the back of your shirt up, a large angry red line spread across your back from where it had rested on the counter. Roger reached his hand around your back and lightly graced his fingers against it, “Did I hurt you?” He asked, his voice cracking from dryness.

You cleared your throat and shrugged your shoulders, “No I’m fine.” You answered.

An air of silence rested over the two of you while Roger lingered behind while you cleaned up and readied yourself to face the people that you knew were on the other side of the door. The drummer leaned against the door, “We get along better when we’re fucking.” He said pointedly.

You looked up from fixing your skitn, “What?” You asked not hearing him, the noise from the party seemed to play on from its previously paused state and come back to your attention. Roger crinkled his nose and pursed his lips before he repeated himself, “Yeah,” You gave a small huffing laugh and buttoned your pants, “Maybe we should make it more consistent.” You said in a nonchalant manor.

Roger put his hand under his shirt collar and scratched at his shoulder before giving you a cheeky grin that would make any other girl’s knees weak, “Friends in the bedroom?” He asked.

You let out a choked and stifled laughter, “Like fuck buddies?” you put it bluntly.

He shrugged his shoulders, not really wanting to put a name to it, “We should probably go back out there,” He said changing the subject quickly, you nodded in agreement and Roger unlocked the door where you were met with gazes from several people waiting impatiently for the bathroom.

A nameless guy pushed past “Hope the groupie was worth it.” he said checking Roger’s shoulder.

You shifted uncomfortably and Roger pulled you by the dip in your waist and flush against his side, you could have sworn there was a protective air in his movements but maybe it was just the exhaustion from the day finally setting in.


	3. This Confusion Will Make Me Explode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter seeing as it is 100% self indulgent and low key filthy at first. But don’t worry we have some good progress in the story. I really struggled with this fic and re wrote it around 3 times because I was just not happy with it, I’m still not totally happy with it but in all honesty I would have probably kept writing and writing until I didnt even know what was going on anymore lol. Also there will be two more chapters coming, with that being said, would you like me to write another Roger fic? Or write for someone else? I was thinking about maybe dabbling in writing for the Beatles (specifically Paul McCartney) but I am open to suggestions, so feel free to either send them to me directly!

With it being halfway through your band’s tour, you were thankful for your break even if it was only a week long. It allowed for you all ample time to rest and relax before heading out on the road once again to tackle the final stretch. It was exhausting and you were perhaps the least healthy you’d ever been due to the copious amounts of alcohol you drank and the stimulants your manager had decided to give the band to help you all keep up with the long and rigorous hours.

You and Roger hadn’t talked much since you’d departed for tour, Queen’s own album had been consuming much of his time and as soon as the concerts ended you had after parties to attend to. But somehow on your day off you and your bandmates found yourselves at the set for Queen’s new single _I Want to __Break Free_. It was your first time seeing the group of four since shortly before your band had departed.

When the four of you walked through the door Freddie enveloped you all in warm welcoming hugs and a friendly kiss on the cheek “How’s tour going darling?” He asked, holding you by your shoulders.

You gave him a tired smile “Exhausting.” You answered, “But I still love it.” you continued as you all walked over to the seating on the side. You all made yourselves comfortable in the cold studio, and Freddie couldn’t help but make note of your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

“Nervous?” He asked, putting a hand on your knee to help calm your nerves.

You let out a long sigh, “No,” you lied through your teeth.

Your brain screamed from inside your skull; of course you were fucking nervous, you had been avoiding almost all contact with Roger for roughly a month and yet there was still this yearning deep inside you that caused you to stare at the phone in your hotel room and debate for hours on whether or not you should ring him. Naturally you always settled on no and for tossing and turning throughout the night.

Freddie rolled his eyes “I feel like that is a lie, but I’ll leave it at that since I’m up next for hair and makeup.” He said before excusing himself and walking towards the back rooms.

You ran a hand through your hair and groaned, sliding deeper into the couch cushions “What the hell are we even doing here?” You said in great disdain.

Benny glanced at your slumped form “We were invited to see our friends after a month of very little contact, cheer up a bit” he retorted sharply.

You let out a disgruntled sigh and kept your mouth shut, whatever would have come out would have only stirred the pot and caused problems, so instead you crossed your legs and rested your arm on the arm rest tapping on it anxiously.

You looked around the set, it strangely looked a lot like something you would see out of Coronation Street, you had pressed Freddie for more information, but he insisted it was a surprise.

And a surprise it was.

Your mouth went dry when you saw a tall slender figure with long blond hair walk through the dressing room door, semi opaque tights and one knee high white sock sliding down their leg. They turned towards you and you recognized the big doe like eyes that adorned their face and clenched your thighs together.

It was Roger.

A shiver crept up your spine seeing his lipstick laden lips spread into a grin at whatever Freddie had said, and Freddie? He looked like an absolute stunner, that leather skirt of his? It was phenomenal. All their individual looks somehow matched their personalities perfectly.

You shifted in your seat, crossing one leg over another and swallowed thickly and hoped to relieve the dryness you were suddenly overcome with. The four boys noticed you and your bandmates presence and sent you a few enthusiastic waves while they got to work recording their video.

Your stomach clenched seeing his stocking clad leg popping to the beat of the song that played in the background. Their filming had gone on for a few hours, and you felt as though you were about to combust. You’d never thought you would have been this turned on from the sight of Roger in stockings and a skirt, but here you were, your wetness seeping through your panties and clenching your thighs to help relieve some of the pressure that had begun to build up.

Their set had been catered, just sandwiches with some snacks and other things to help curb their appetites while they worked. You regretfully got up from your seat and made your way to the table, lighting a cigarette on the way and exhaling the smoke towards the ceiling. You grabbed a plate and piled with food, it was free and since touring you often struggled to have a decent meal, so why not?

“Is this your last supper?” You turned and saw Roger’s pink lipstick clad lips pulled into a cheeky grin.

You let out a small breathless laugh and shrugged you didn’t trust how your voice would sound, but still spoke “More like my first supper.” You tried to hide the shakiness behind your voice, “I feel like I’ve been eating crumbs since on tour.”

Roger swallowed thickly, pushing his long blond wig out of his eyes, “That’ll happen.” He said, an uncomfortable silence lingering between the two of you.

You continued through the buffet style like and turned, raking your eyes over Roger’s feminine form and bit your lip “You look good,” You said in a small voice. 

You couldn’t see your face, but Roger could, and it looked as though you wanted to jump his bones right then and there; the primal desire in your eyes caused a smirk to spread across his face. Up until he had heard you and your band were coming to watch their filming the idea of sex hadn’t crossed his busy mind, but after seeing the look in your eye he brought back the familiar want and desire to be needed he craved deep in his bones.

He watched you walk back to your seat, the sway of your hips tantalizing him with every step until you sat down. There was no way to tactfully ask you to come back to his dressing room, he just hoped the little nod he gave you as he left was enough of a signal to you.

The moment you saw Roger giving you that curt not and the back of his skirt bobbing while he walked, you wasted no time in dabbing your cigarette out on the ash tray and while all the hunger in your belly was replaced with more primal desires. You abruptly got up and started making your way in the direction of Roger’s dressing room and ignored the knowing snickers from your friends.

You didn’t bother knocking, and abruptly opened the door. Roger had barely made his way into his dressing room when he turned and felt you pulling him by the collar of his dress shirt in an abrupt kiss. Your lips tactlessly mushed together, and your teeth clanked while he pushed you against the door, promptly locking it as to not get any unwanted intruders. He left a lipstick trail down the side of your neck and along your shirt as he kissed and sucked on your neck and collar bone, leaving dark marks in his wake.

Your chest heaved against his as he pushed you harder and harder against the door, craving closeness and you let out a choked moan when he bit down on your shoulder. He pulled away briefly to pull his wig off, but you caught his arm “Leave it on, all of it” you said, your face flushing with embarrassment “Please.” You added for good measure.

Roger quirked his perfectly formed eyebrows and gave you a quizzical look “All of it?” He questioned.

You ran your hand up his semi opaque tights and pulled him closer to you, grabbing his ass “You just make such a pretty girl, love” you whispered in his ear.

A shiver ran through his spine at your husky tone and he swallowed thickly, feeling you play with the band of his tights, “Did you wear panties with this too?” You asked before slipping your hand through the stretchy fabric and feeling soft panties, delicately outlined in lace. You hummed in content, “These feel a little too naughty for a school girl…” You whispered playfully into his ear.

Roger let out a soft whimper, feeling you close to his hardening cock “Had to go for authenticity.” His voice cracked.

Your finger lightly traced the edge of his jawline, feeling the smoothness of his clean-shaven face and pulled your hands from the elastic tights and watched while he jumped as they snapped against the skin on his stomach. You gripped his hand and pulled him over to the couch, a sudden surge of dominance rushed through you and you pushed him backwards and straddled his hips. You sat flush against his lap, his half hard cock pressing against you and slowly rocked your hips against him. The both of you hissed with pleasure and he gripped your hips tightly, pushing you down harder. You let out a whiny sigh and tugged his skirt up, momentarily shifting so you could get a view of the panties he was wearing. Your mouth hung open and you looked down to where your legs met and saw he was wearing a pair of soft pink panties with two delicate lines of white lace on either side accompanied by a white bow in the center. His cock was straining against the small fabric and you could already see a small wet spot forming from the precum that begun to gather at the tip.

You continued to rock your hips against his, moving in tandem together, while your mouths hovered just out of distance from each other. Your mouths hung open while jagged breaths escaped, silently daring the other to close the distance. Naturally, Roger was the one who acted first, he tugged you by your hips and jolted you forward, closing the distance and locking his lips with yours. Your head tilted and your mouth automatically opened in response, welcoming his tongue into your mouth.

Roger’s thumbs rubbed small circles on your hips, and he pulled away momentarily and kissed your jawline. He mumbled soft words that you couldn’t quite catch, you thought he something along the lines of ‘missed you’ but it couldn’t be possible. A sudden idea struck you “Can you eat me out, Rog?” You asked in an abrupt and breathless voice.

His kisses found their way back to your mouth “I haven’t tasted you in such a long time.” He groaned continuing to pepper your face with kisses.

You pulled away from Roger’s strong grip, lightly ghosting your fingertips over one of his arms as you pulled back “Can you sit on the floor, like a good girl for me?” You asked as you began to unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs along with your panties.

Roger swallowed thickly and nodded his head, sliding down the edge of the couch until he was seated on the floor. He watched your every move, enjoying this new change of pace seeing he was the one who would typically take charge. 

You used the tips of your fingers to tilt his head back and rest it against the back of the couch before you straddled either side of his head, you looked down and saw Roger’s eyeliner and mascara clad eyes staring up at you and you gripped onto the back of the couch before you felt Roger pull you down by your hips. He licked a stripe, flatly, against your wet folds and groaned feeling your wetness on his tongue.

You let yourself relax, your legs sinking further and further onto Roger’s face and let out a content sigh.

Roger’s hands sprung to your hips, gripping tightly on the plush skin and pressed his lips to your inner thigh, sucking and leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on his path back to your core. He settled back between your legs began sucking on your clit. You arched your back and moved your hips in tandem with his skill full tongue.

A sudden jolt from Roger caused you to crane your neck behind you. You caught sight of Roger’s now ripped tights accompanied by his messy and wrinkled skirt; he’d pulled his hard cock out, now pumping with a steady rhythm. The sight of his hard hock tightly griped in his hand and bucking hips caused a moan to slip from your lips.

Roger’s wig had fallen crooked on his head his head and was now askew. You laced your fingers through his hair, you didn’t know if it was his natural hair or the wig. But you tugged what you could taut in your hands and allowed your legs to spread further and press yourself flush against Roger’s face. His grip tightened and his lungs burned for oxygen while his deliciously desperate moans and whimpers accompanied by your own and the lewd sounds from your wetness filled the room.

He tapped the side of your hip and you raised up, Roger’s lungs filling with air as he gasped and continued hungrily swirling his tongue around your clit. You were surprised when you felt him pull you back down shortly after he’d caught his breath, allowing him to once again have you pressed against him. His brain was dizzy with pleasure and lack of oxygen and he continued to squeeze his cock hard, pumping it with a sloppy and jerking rhythm.

You might have hated Roger, but you loved how his skillful tongue and mouth sucked and lapped at your most sensitive parts. He knew how to please a woman and payed attention to every little whimper they let out. You felt a familiar pleasant burn building up in your stomach and started to involuntarily pull away from Roger’s mouth as the pleasure soon became too much for you. He let go of his cock and pulled you by your thighs back down onto his mouth while you writhed and ground your face down against him and let go. Your walls pulsated as he continued to lap and suck on your clit, working you through your orgasm and not wasting a single drop that leaked out of you.

You slid down and found yourself on Roger’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist with both of your chests heaving against each other. Your head rested in the crook of Roger’s neck and he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you pulled tightly against him and softly rubbed your back. He was the first to break the silence, as he always was, “I should probably go back to hair and makeup.” He said, softly kissing your jaw.

You pulled away, to see his wig totally off and tangled on the couch, his makeup had begun to streak and smudge under his eyes and lipstick smeared all over his and your faces respectively. You found your face breaking into a grin, you bashfully buried your face into his chest. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment and a cheerful laugh rumbled from Roger’s chest, “You have a nice smile.” He said looking down and giving you a boyish smile. You pulled back, cheeks still flushed and used your hand to rub the side of his face, admiring the way the corner of his eyes crinkled whenever he laughed or smiled.

A knock on the door caused the two of you to be ripped from your own pleasant little world, “Roger- are you done? Break is almost over.” It sounded like one of the crew members.

Roger cleared his throat “Yeah, I’ll be out soon. Need to go back into hair and make up again though.” He called back. Reluctantly you pulled away from him to fix yourself and re dress. Roger’s felt a rush of cold air on his chest when you left, and a silent sigh of disappointment passed his swollen lips. He stood up, fixing his skirt and tucking himself back into his own panties, “If you want to come by after filming, we can finish up.” He said not turning to see face you and picking up his tangled and messy wig, running his fingers through the tangled synthetic hair.

You watched as Roger bashfully played with his wig, “Sure, but only if I can get a ride.” You said, a soft smile adorning your face.

\---

Filming had gone on a lot longer than you’d expected, you knew it was going to be a full day but hadn’t expected it to go beyond 8 hours. You found yourself laying across the comfortable couch in the filming studio, your head on Benny’s lap struggling to stay awake. It wasn’t until you heard the director calling for a wrap that you lifted your sleepy head and caught sight of Roger who was now dressed in a comfortable crew neck and jeans.

You looked at Benny “I’m going back with Roger.” You said running a hand through your hair.

Benny nodded his head “Got a cute date?” He asked with a small smirk.

You rolled your eyes and reminded him that it was just sex.

This didn’t account for the fact that you found yourself at Roger’s home eating takeout with him, a blanket draped over the two of you while you laid back on his chest and watched reruns on the television, instead of just sex. You missed genuine human interaction, during tour you were limited to people liking you for your music or trying to get close to you because of the illusion that you had money. But there was something comforting about being here in Roger’s arms, it was a feeling you tried to push down and burry deep inside you so that no one could find it. But you found yourself becoming more and more fond of his company and the hate you had for him slowly demising.

You’d never slept over at Roger’s house before, but you awoke in the middle of the night to find yourself still laying in his chest on the couch, the TV now on late night infomercials, and your takeout boxes cluttering the table. Roger has one arm around your waist while the other was draped over the back edge of the couch and soft snores left his lips. You tapped his chest lightly, causing him to stir. He inhaled deeply and one of his sleepy eyes fluttered open peering down at you, “I’m going to head home,” You whispered. You didn’t know why you were whispering, there was no one else in the house. Maybe it was because you didn’t quite trust how your voice would sound.

Roger grabbed your wrist and stopped you as you began to get up to leave, “Why?” He asked, his voice seemed to fill up the whole living room.

You swallowed thickly, your throat still parched from sleeping with your mouth open “I- I guess I didn’t want to bother you.” You said looking down to where Roger was still gripping.

Sitting up, Roger softly pulled you back towards the couch, “Stay,” He said in a softer voice, “Please? It’s late and I drove you here.” He added, to make sure he didn’t sound too eager.

You sighed in defeat, “I suppose you’re right.” You said now standing next to the drowsy man, you doubted you could catch a taxi at this hour.

“Come on,” He said standing up and beginning the all too familiar route to his room. He rummaged through his drawers before he tossed an over-sized faded tee shirt from the drawer onto the bed, “Might be a bit big, but I don’t have much else.” He said, scratching the back of his neck.

You nodded your head, you’d been in this room so many times before but at this moment you’d never felt more vulnerable. You clutched the thin shirt to your chest and nodded, going to his en suite bathroom to change. You didn’t know why you did that you and Roger had been naked in front of each other dozens of times before.

When you exited the bathroom, he’d already changed and was neatly tucked under the sheets with the bedside lamp on. He gave you a soft boyish grin upon seeing you in one of his old shirts. You pulled the blankets back and climbed in. Out of the now countless times you’ve spent here, you’d never actually realized how comfortable Roger’s bed was or how soft and heavy his sheets and duvet were. Exhaustion soon consumed your mind once more after Roger clicked off the lamp, allowing the room to become engulfed in darkness.

You suddenly became hyper aware of all the little movements Roger was making as he got comfortable, you’d never slept over at his house before and almost always opted to come home at 4 in the morning instead of facing something like this. You sat up and adjusted the pillows behind you and laid back down, instead of getting comfortable you just tossed and turned but still tried to make your movements soft to not wake Roger.

He wasn’t asleep though seeing as a huff left his mouth and he pulled you close to his chest “Christ, stop moving, woman.” He said burying his face into your neck.

You shivered feeling his hot breath on you, “I just can’t get comfortable.” You huffed, “I’m not tired anymore.”

You could feel Roger smiling against the skin on your shoulder and his hands softly rubbing the dip in your waist, “You know, we never did finish up like we said we were going to.” He said and started placing light feathery kisses all along your neck and shoulder, the kind that he knew would make you melt.

His calloused hands rested on the waist band of your panties and your stomach twitched at the light touches he left as he ran his hand along the band. You cupped Roger’s face in the palm of your hands and felt him lean into the touch, placing a kiss to the center of either of your hands. You rubbed small circles on his soft skin with your thumbs and pulled him into an equally soft kiss. Your mouths fluidly molded together and the two of you kissed with the kind of familiarity you could only achieve after being comfortable with your partner for years.

Roger’s hand slowly over the top of your still clothed mound where he left light touches against your entrance… if you could even call them touches. His fingers just barely grazed your skin, causing shaky and ragged breaths to escape your mouth as you now desperately held his face in your hands. Your hips writhed and bucked against his hand, urging him to press harder and you began to feel him smirking into the kiss, feeling his cheeks lightly move against your palms.

“Please, Rog.” You murmured against his mouth.

Roger pulled his mouth and hand away, “Please what?” He asked.

You whimpered at the lack of pressure on your core that was throbbing with arousal, “Stop teasing.” You whined.

Roger smirked against your mouth and finally pushed your panties to the side, inserting his finger into you “You’re already so wet,” He said lazily pumping his fingers in and out of your core.

Your hips twitched in anticipation; there were nights where you barely made it out of the studio before Roger pounced on you and took you with very little preparation, but then there were times like this where Roger made sure to take his time with you, exploring every crevasse your body had to offer like it was for the first time.

The slow and well thought out movements of Roger’s fingers had your brain swimming in it’s own world. You’d hardly noticed that he’d pulled your shirt up and was sensually sucking and pinching your nipples, leaving a delicious tingle in your chest. Your back arched into him and you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging him closer to your chest while your hips writhed along with his fingers.

Your stomach began to tighten, and your thighs clenched, you were so close. Roger could feel your walls twitching around his fingers and as soon as that feeling began to reach its peak, it stopped.

You felt your eyes begin to sting and water from both frustration and arousal, the throbbing of your wet pussy nearly unbearable “Roger,” You choked out in frustration, hooking your leg over his while he now half straddled you. You began to grind down on his leg frantically, trying to get some solace to your aching parts.

The blonde’s hands gripped your hips firmly and pulled you away “Come on now, be a good girl.” Roger said, his face buried in the crook of your neck and muffled.

You whimpered, feeling his hands gripping the plush and soft skin of your thighs “I’m a good girl,” You sounded totally helpless. There was one fact that you knew, and it was that Roger Taylor was the only man that could crumble your hard punk-rock façade and cause you to become putty in his hands.

Roger kissed your collar bone, “I know, you’re my good girl, right?” He asked in a reassuring voice.

Your breathing hitched, “Fuck, Rog, I’m your good girl.” You said in a shaky voice, he was so close to you, you could feel the heat radiating off his hands, yet he avoided every spot you wanted him to touch.

You were his good girl, _HIS_ good… girl.

Your head was swimming and you didn’t quite register what he said to you, but your response just fell from your lips, the filter between your brain and mouth had apparently disappeared.

Your response stirred something in Roger, causing a warmth to spread through his body. He bit your collar bone and swirled his tongue around the bruise that had formed and continued his ghost-like touches he went back to fingering you.

Your body shook, begging and aching to be touched while he continuously brought to the brink of coming and abruptly stopped. You arched your back, eyes shut, and hair plastered to your forehead while your skin stuck to his sheets from the layer of sweat that had begun to build up. You could feel his eyes intently watching you, his silhouette perching and pulling away from kissing your neck and chest to see your form writhing.

“Please, Rog,” You let out a helpless and pathetic sob, but this time unlike previous times he refrained from reminding you of how pathetic you were and looked.

Roger sat up, his hair a wild mess from you running your fingers through and tugging it before he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I missed you, I want to take my time tonight” he’d barely pulled away and you could lightly feel his mouth moving against you as he softly spoke.

Your mind went blank- Roger missed you?

You didn’t know how to respond, and your mind felt like it had been taken over by late night TV static so instead a small whimper left your lips and you pulled him against you by the back of his head in a soft and lazy kiss. You might not have been able to speak properly, but your kiss caused a moan to fall from the drummer’s lips while the two of you desperately clung to each other and frantically kissed.

Roger’s hands pulled out of your core and he cupped your face not even bothering to wipe them off. Your wetness smeared across your cheek and he clumsily settled between your legs, carefully laying on top of you and ground against your still clothed and sensitive core.

Your hands fell from his cheeks and desperately sought purchase on his back. You could feel the muscles on his back flexing with his movements as he continued to roll his hips with yours, you drug your nails feeling overwhelmed by the pleasurable roughness of your panties and the pressure coming from Roger.

Roger pulled away from you and peppered light kisses on your cheek and jaw before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. You could feel the hot ragged breath that escaped him with every roll and buck of your hips, “Fuck, [Y/N],” He whined before placing a wet opened mouth kiss on your neck “You’re such a beautiful fucking mess.” His voice sounded ragged and husky in your ear, “My pretty girl, yeah?” He said lifting his head to look at you.

The niceties that left his mouth wrapped around you brain and only caused the fog of arousal to thicken. The two of you hadn’t even taken your underwear off yet and were dry humping like two horny, lovesick teenagers. You swallowed thickly “Yours Rog,” You said as his forehead rested against yours, noses just barely touching and mouths hovering open. You were close, so close, his words doubled with the edging earlier and coupled together to form a storm in your belly. “Only yours.” You whined out, barely recognizing your voice as your orgasm ripped through you. You raked your nails sharply down his back causing him to arch into your chest and hiss feeling your panties dampen even more as he continued to grind against you, desperately trying to reach his own release. His hips sputtered and he let out a surprisingly whiny whimper and pulled you tightly against his chest, jerking ever so slightly as he came in his briefs.

Roger lightly moved his hips against you, chasing the pleasure of his climax and lazily sucked on your neck, swirling his tongue around one of the various marks he left. His hips stilled and the two of you laid there, still embracing each other and enjoying the soft pants as the you tried to catch your breath.

“Fucking Christ,” Roger said, finally rolling off you and placing a hand on his forehead in disbelief. He sat up and looked down at his briefs as they stuck and clung to his skin from the moisture that they had absorbed, “I can’t remember the last time I came in my pants.” He muttered letting out a breathless laugh.

You turned and looked at him, still unable to move and recovering, “I feel accomplished then.” You joked before pushing yourself up to sit up against the pillows.

Roger shook his head and smoothed his sweaty hair back before grabbing his alarm clock and looking at it “I’m going to grab a quick shower.” He said quickly discarding his briefs and throwing them in the laundry bin.

You perked up, “Need company?” You asked, only half joking.

Roger paused his steps and twisted to look back at your sitting form, “Sure,” you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the cheeky grin in his voice.

You also discarded your clothing in the dirty laundry bin, something told you he wouldn’t mind finding your panties in there while doing laundry.

As soon as you walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, you saw the red, purple, and pink marks that littered your chest and neck “Christ Roger,” You hissed craning your neck, “What are we teenagers?” You asked crossing your arms over your bare chest and looking up at him, trying to hide your amused smile with a scowl.

Roger could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck and his ears turn red with embarrassment “Sorry, guess I went a bit overboard.” He said sheepishly scratching at his shoulder like he always did, “But in my defense, we both did just come in our pants like a bunch of teenagers, ‘s fitting you think?” He added, cheeky as always.

The shower was nice, both in style and in the quality of your shower, it was a decent sized walk in with marbled tile on the sides and floor. You were surprised that the two of you actually showered and scrubbing off the sweat and sin from your prior activities proved to be refreshing.

“Turn around,” Roger said lightly pushing on your shoulders. You gave him a quizzical look before turning and facing away from him. He squirted a dollop of soap on his hands and began to massage it through your hair. You felt your face getting hot, why were you embarrassed? It was probably because no one had ever bothered to wash your hair as delicately as Roger did. He ran his fingers through your hair, lathering the soap and applying just the right amount of pressure to your scalp to relieve any of the tension that may have been left over. You’d asked if he wanted you to return the favor, but he promptly protested and said you were too short.

After the shower you found yourself curled up next to Roger, his arm securely around you and your arm on his chest enjoying the silence and darkness that surrounded the two of you. “Hey, Rog?” You asked abruptly. To you it sounded as though you’d thrown a rock through a large glass window and it came crashing down around you but, in reality, it had only been a soft whisper. Roger hummed in response and looked down at you, “Did- um- did you mean it…” You trained off and nervously rubbed your hand on his chest “Did you mean it- you know- when you called me pretty?” you asked, burying your face into his arm trying to hide, whether it was for fear of his response or your own embarrassment over something so trivial you wouldn’t know.

Roger cleared his throat, the cogs in his brain turning “Yeah,” He said swallowing thickly “I did,” His voice did nothing to hide his nerves.

You looked up at him and felt his arm lightly squeeze your side, it was a shame you hated him because it was moments like this that caused you to second guess yourself.

\---

The following morning you’d woken up to an empty bed, your heart almost sank before you came to the realization that you weren’t in your room. In fact, you were in Roger’s. As soon as you came to that realization the memories from last night all came flooding back into your mind, Roger’s words replaying over and over again in your head like a broken record _you’re my pretty girl_ which was accompanied by the memory of him washing your hair and his soft delicate touches.

You pulled back the sheets and looked down to see your chest was indeed still covered in marks, some of which faded but most were more vivid than ever; so, you could confirm that your memories were not fever dreams. They were in fact real. Roger had called you pretty, he’d washed your hair, he’d called you his, and he came in his pants, for you of all people. The memories of last night caused a dizzy feeling to wash over you but you quickly shook it off and scrounged around for a shirt that was long enough for you to wear and settled on a blue flannel you found on the floor, buttoning it up and not caring that the buttons were off.

Clanging sounded from the kitchen as you meandered through his sizable home, catching your attention. As you walked in Roger was clad in his boxer briefs and an old faded tee shirt, busying himself about he kitchen and obviously making breakfast, “Morning,” He answered, not turning around.

“Morning,” You answered, confusion still swimming in your head. You had to tell Freddie about this, you certainly couldn’t tell your bandmates or any of Roger’s other bandmates. They would give him so much shit for coming in his pants like a teenage boy.

“I’m making breakfast if you want any,” He said turning around to look at you, his ears turning red when he saw the marks that speckled your typically clear skin.

“Do-do you have a phone… I could use?” You asked, trying to find the right way to ask without rousing suspicion.

“Why? Are you going to call a taxi?” Roger asked, following your question too quickly.

You shook your head “No, why would it?” You asked in a genuine tone, the thought had actually never crossed your mind.

Roger ignored your question and used the spoon he had in his hand to point over towards the living room “There’s one on the wall in the hall near the living room.” He mumbled and got back to work.

You excused yourself to the phone and quickly rang up Freddie, desperately hoping he would answer. “Hello?” He answered the phone sounding confused.

“Freddie?” You asked in a harsh whisper.

“[Y/N]?”

“Freddie, can I come over later tonight? After filming?” You asked, playing with the cord on the phone, lightly twisting it between your fingers.

“Why, is everything all right? You sound frantic, dear.”

“It’s nothing I promise, I just need some advice on something…” You said trailing off and glancing back towards the kitchen where you could hear Roger whistling to himself and calling your name to let you know breakfast was done “I gotta go.” You said cutting him off.

“Wait, was that Roger, [Y/N]!” He sounded like a journalist who’d just seen the biggest scandal of their career “Don’t you dare hang up, you must tell me!” you paused, looking from the kitchen to the receiver and debated hanging up “I’ll march over there if you do, and you know it.” Oh you did, Freddie would show up here in twenty minutes tops.

“Fine, yes it was, I slept over and we took a shower and he washed my hair and we cuddled and now he’s made breakfast which we’re going to eat together and I’m confused Fred.” You said, your words rushing together as they freely fell from your mouth in a panic.

You could hear Freddie biting back a grin “I’ll make reservations for us to get dinner. Bye love!” He said, hanging up the phone once you bid him farewell.

“Sorry, I’m a pretty awful cook.” Roger admitted, setting a plate in front of you.

They were pancakes and eggs with toast, how bad could it be?

Well, to tell you the truth, it was actually pretty awful. Roger wasn’t lying when he said he was a bad cook. The pancakes and toast were burnt, and the eggs were dry and over cooked, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to not eat it.

“How do you not starve?” You asked with a small smile “I’ll cook for you next time.” You said, your face heating up when you realized you’d let the ‘next time’ slip out.

Roger looked at you, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk from stuffing his face. His eyes were wide and he swallowed thickly “Yeah,” He said wiping his mouth with a napkin “I’d like that.”

\---

Your dinner with Freddie had been going well until he decided to bring up your phone call earlier, “So, breakfast?” He asked, poking his food with his fork.

You paused mid bite and put your fork down, “Yeah…” You said trailing off “It was pretty shit.” You admitted and used it as an attempt to cover your nerves with humor.

“That’s not what I wanted to know, and you know it.” His eyes sparkled with anticipation, waiting for you to spill the scorching hot tea he waited all day for.

You swallowed thickly “Well, I went over and we ordered take out and watched TV and fell asleep on the couch together. Then I woke up and was going to leave but he asked me to stay and it was too late to get a taxi so I stayed.”

“Did you have sex?” He pressed, Fred truly wanted all the details.

“No,” You answered honestly and noticed Freddie’s face fall. “But-” you stopped abruptly to look around, making sure no one was looking and leaned into the table “We were like two horny teenager’s Fred.” You said pulling down the collar of your shirt to reveal the spots that speckled your chest, Freddie gasped, and his jaw fell open while he covered his mouth. “That’s not even the worst part Fred.” You said covering your face with your hands “We didn’t even get our underwear off before we both came.” You felt your ears turn hot with embarrassment.

“No!” Freddie desperately tried to keep in the excitement that was currently bubbling over, putting both of his hands down on the table abruptly and causing the plates and silverware to clatter, “[Y/N]! You dog!” He said playfully.

You rubbed your face with your hand and groaned, leaning back in your chair “He called me his pretty girl.” Fred opened his mouth to speak, but you quickly cut him off “And you know what my dumb ass said? I’m only yours, Rog.”

The pot that was Freddie’s excitement had finally bubbled over “No! You’re taking the piss!” he bellowed, leaning forward and keeping his hands firmly planted on the table.

“Then, we took a shower and he washed my hair and it felt nice! And after that we cuddled, then he woke up before me and was already making breakfast when I woke up.” You continued to ramble on and on, giving away every little detail of the night to Freddie, who drank it in like a man who had just hiked through the desert.

It was a lot of information for Fred to comprehend, so it was probably good he didn’t need do to much comprehending because he already knew what was happening “I knew the two of you liked each other.” He said putting his glass of wine to his lips, he gasped lightly “Wait-” he said filming lightly “Let’s just take a moment to remember who set this up, cheers darling” He said referring to himself.

You raised your glass and clinked it with him “I don’t know about like each other. I can’t stand the prick.” You said taking a sip of your drink and smoothing your hands over the cloth napkin that covered your lap.

Freddie rolled his eyes, topping off his glass “Right, that’s why you spent the night with him.” He muttered more to himself, but he made sure it was loud enough for you to hear.

You pursed your lips “What, Fred? What do you want me to say? That I’m lonely and just want someone to hold my hand and tell me nice things?” You answered, your tone came off sharper than you wanted.

Freddie put his glass down, “Now, now, don’t use that tone with me.” He narrowed his gaze at you “You’re just upset I’m right.” He added in a matter of fact tone. You hid your face behind your fork full of food and avoided eye contact, “If there is one thing, I am absolutely sure of it’s that Roger doesn’t cook breakfast for someone he keeps around for just sex and he most certainly doesn’t come in his pants for just anyone.” His tone was smug towards the end.

Freddie’s words hung heavy in your mind as you wandered up the steps to your apartment. You could hear the boys shouting and laughing over each other while soft music thudded from the thin walls. Walking in, you could see them sitting around the kitchen table drinking and talking, their card game long forgotten. “Hey! How was your sleepover?” Benny called seeing the door open and hearing your shuffling when you walked into view, he made a face “What the fuck is the dreadful shirt you’re wearing?” He asked, pointing to your turtle neck.

You huffed, shutting the door behind you and pulling down your collar like you previously did for Freddie. The boys erupted in roars laughter while your face flushed with embarrassment “Leave me alone.” You said defensively, walking past them and straight to your room to change.

“Oh, come on,” Benny called after you “Come have a beer, we’re sorry!” He said, you could hear him harshly whispering for the other two to quiet down and stop laughing.

You returned in a comfortable crew neck and pair of sleep shorts and pushed yourself between them, making a seat, cracking a beer open and promptly lighting a cigarette, “He made me breakfast too.” You said, your elbow resting on the table holding your cigarette up and leaning over the table slightly hunched, avoiding eye contact with your friends.

Their chatter stopped and they all stared at you as you stared at them, “So, what are you finally admitting you like him?” Haz asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

You groaned in frustration “I don’t know, and I’m confused, okay?” You admitted, “I don’t want to,” you quickly added sounding like an upset child.

Benny shifted in his seat which groaned under him “Why not give it a shot? I mean the worst thing that could happen is that the two of you go back to hating each other again.” He pointed out.

A frown graced your face, but you DID still hate him… right?

You put took a deep inhale from your cigarette and shook your head, the thought of Roger not wanting to talk or see you again actually kind of made you feel bad. It felt like a rock had dropped in your stomach and was sitting there, causing discomfort and annoying pain. You blew the smoke out from your lungs and let put yet another frustrated groan “I don’t know, I don’t want to mess things up.”

“[Y/N],” Joe said, finally breaking his silence, “The man made you breakfast and made it look like you lost a battle with some leeches.” He crunched his empty beer can in his hand and threw it towards the garbage can, you watched as the can hit the wall and bounced off the floor “Just tell him you like him and if it doesn’t work out then fuck it,” He shrugged “He isn’t worth it then, because you’re a dime.”

Your face flushed, you knew none of your bandmates like you in that way, but you never were one for taking compliments well.

\---

The following morning you found yourself driving to Roger’s home unannounced, it had been maybe two days since the two of you last talked and you were beginning to fell unsettled by the lack of communication.

You knocked on the door and awkwardly shifted the weight on your legs from side to side and tucked your hands into your pockets to prevent yourself from nervously fidgeting. It was almost mid afternoon but there was still a chance Roger was still asleep, you thought to yourself and knocked again, this time louder. You could hear Roger’s muffled voice from the other side of the door while you waited quite impatiently for him.

He opened the door and looked at you, slightly shocked. He was wearing his big round glasses and the flannel you had worn the morning after you slept over, “Oh, [Y/N], I wasn’t expecting you,” He said trailing off.

“Sorry,” you nervously sputtered out.

Roger smiled softly, “It’s no problem, come in love” He said, stepping aside so you could walk in. Within a few minutes you found yourself wrapped in his arms with his lips firmly pressed against yours, as quick as it started, it was over. The chaste kiss left you wanting more, like they always did. “You left a few things over here the other night.” A sly smirk played on his face.

Right. You’d left your panties in his laundry basket.

You smiled, feeling heat creeping up your neck and stumbling over your words, “Do you,” he paused to study your face, “Want to -you know- head to my room?” He asked with his typical cheeky grin.

You nodded your head, silently and he gripped your hand pulling you along with him. There was something about Roger’s kisses that caused your worries to drift away and time to cease around you. Your mouths molded together perfectly, and your touches roamed each other’s bodies with a comforting familiarity.

Roger had managed to get your top off within the first fifteen minutes of being here which wasn’t his quickest, but it was still record time. He pulled away and ran his hand along your sides, appreciating your every curve before he leaned down, kissing your forehead “You’re stunning.” He mumbled softly. If you hadn’t been listening, you wouldn’t have caught his words.

A sudden wave of emotion bubbled through you and you felt your eyes beginning to well with tears that threatened to spill over, Roger pulled away, stopping his actions “What’s wrong?” He asked sounding slightly panicked “Did I hurt you?” He said looking you over in an attempt to find any signs of discomfort that you had.

You shook your head and rubbed your eyes in frustration “No, no I’m fine it isn’t you.” You said

Roger’s heart dropped, that was a statement he’d heard many times before, but it wasn’t like the two of you were breaking up, right?

“Rog, I’m going to be honest.” You started out, your words were shaky and you sounded unsure, “I’m very confused right now, especially after the other day.” A surge of emotion began to bubble out of you, and you felt your eyes stinging. Roger caught your glassy eyed gaze and swallowed thickly, intently staring at you “Everything you’ve been saying to me lately has confused me.” You added, shaking your head in frustration and sitting up against the pillows.

Roger’s face sank, he didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected you to come over, much less prepared for you to be on the brink of tears while laying topless in his bed.

When he didn’t speak you continued with your emotion filled rant “I guess,” You huffed out, looking away and avoiding eye contact “I’m confused because I didn’t want that to be a one-time thing.” You said softly, your voice cracking with emotion.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room, your mind swimming with thoughts of self-doubt and ridicule before Roger spoke “What if I didn’t want it to be a one-time thing too?” he asked, intently watching you.

You looked up, your hardened exterior now a crumbled mess, as you allowed tears to silently stream down your face. Roger pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head before pulling away and thumbing the tears from under your eyes “Stop crying, love.” He said, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours, feeling your soft hiccups as you tried to stop the stream of pent up emotions that had now bubbled over, “You look like a mess when you cry.” There was a comforting tone in his voice that caused a smile to spread across your face.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, burring your face into his chest, “I hate crying in front of people.” You admitted.

Roger kept you comfortably in his chest as he laid back against the pillows and ran his fingers through your hair mindlessly “Would it be okay,” His words were carefully thought out, “If we could, you know, go grab dinner somewhere?”

You looked up at Roger to see a light dusting of pink that covered his face and ears, “I can’t go out looking like this,” You said motioning to your stuffed nose and irritated eyes.

Roger smiled and let out a soft laugh “No, I mean in the future, like after our tours are all finished.” That was right, Roger still had his own tour to tend to and yours was due to start back up in a few days.

You let out a puff of air, that future seemed so distant right now, but you still agreed.


	4. A Scowl Doesn't Suit Your Pretty Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey cuties! I haven’t updated in AGES and I’m so sorry about that I’ve been so busy with classes and finals are rapidly approaching. But here is the newest chapter! Also a small reminder that I will be posting a Paul McCartney 101 Dalmatians AU fic soon! I am wrapping up Sour with the next chapter and I’m really happy with how it has turned out. I love all of your comments and kudos, they seriously give me inspiration to keep writing this and make me smile when i read them. If you have any ideas for little blurbs you would like me to write about Roger and Reader feel free to comment!

The last leg of tour was the worst and you and your bandmates had figured it out the hard way. You were thoroughly exhausted, your voice was hoarse, and you had a constant nagging headache. Roger had just begun his tour as well and had been on the road for a little less than a month, but the two of you still found time to talk and some how agreed whatever happened on tour stayed on tour.

Benny thought you were out of your mind to open your, what ever this was with Roger, right away. But something inside you knew that if Roger had mindless and meaningless sex with someone other than you while on tour, it wouldn’t compare to the sex the two of you had. It also acted as a precautionary thing a safety net for communication purposes.

You made yourself comfortable, stretching out on the back seat of the tour bus and listened as Joe and Haz talked quietly together and Benny snored. It was late, but so was every other night on the road. This night was different, you were hoping to make it to the next city by morning so you could meet up with Roger and the rest of Queen to see them perform. In all honesty, up until this point you’d never paid much attention to their live performances due to your distain for Roger and mainly listened to their LPs, so you were excited to say the least.

You hadn’t slept much, and your back was stiff by the time you arrived at your destination early in the morning. You and your bandmates checked into the hotel, quickly made yourselves comfortable, and filled the free time you did have with more sleep to help curb your exhaustion. Part of you was nervous about showing up semi unannounced, what if you showed up and Roger was with another girl? You tried to shake your worries from your head as you remembered the agreement the two of you had settled on prior to your departure and it only made you feels slightly at ease.

When you received your wakeup call it was nearly 5 in the afternoon. You had around an hour to get ready and hop into the car Freddie had sent to pick you and your bandmates up to drive you to the venue. So quickly, you showered and readied yourself.

You arrived shortly before the time doors opened to the public and were rushed through the back door where fans waited to catch a glimpse of the four superstars. Freddie was the only one to come and greet you, albeit rushed, it was still nice to see a familiar face amongst the chaotic mess that was back stage.

You and your troupe made yourselves comfortable on the side wings once the show started, still having not been spotted by Roger or the rest of members of Queen. The show started and your eyes immediately zeroed in on Roger, he played with such focus and ferocity, it was no wonder he hadn’t noticed you lot yet.

Freddie was magnificent on stage, the way he played the crowd made even you feel like he was putting on a personal show. But Roger, you could hardly tear your eyes off him, his purposefully placed hair soon became disheveled and plastered to the back of his neck and forehead with sweat that glistened off his skin. The buttons on his white shirt were long forgotten and open, now exposing his chest for you and the world to see.

You gripped your cold beer bottle tightly, thankful it wasn’t a can, and drank it in hopes to quench your sexual thirst. The alcohol did nothing but fuel the lust you felt for the blond man; you clenched your jaw at the tension settling in your bones and intently watched the show.

At their break the boys ran off stage, each sweaty and out of breath from performing and desperately seeking a drink to quench their thirst. You handed your beer out as Roger walked past, he took it out of your hand blindly and drank it before turning to hand it back to you. You saw his tired eyes brighten “[Y/N]!” He said pulling you into a hug, he was warm, and felt like a damp washcloth, and smelled musky. You really couldn’t blame him for his current frazzled state seeing as he had literally just walked off stage. Roger pulled away and finally got a good look at your face, even in the dim light he could see your exhaustion “You look like shit,” He said with a boyish smile playing on his face.

You kept your hands steady on Roger’s sweaty shoulders and smirked “You feel like a damp rag.” You retorted in a joking manor.

“Roger, come on, you’ve got 15 minutes to change for the encore.” You could see a stern stage hand with a clipboard, he must have been important.

You quirked your eyebrow at Roger, “A second outfit?” you teased.

Roger huffed and let go of you “I’ve got to change, love” He said softly “Can’t go on looking like a damp rag.” He said quickly grabbing your beer from your hand and finishing it before handing it back to you.

You frowned, “I was drinking that!” You shouted after him, Roger simply answered with a wave as he slipped into his dressing room to quickly change clothes and freshen up.

After the show, you found yourself shoved off to their after party despite your exhaustion and aching back you still attended the party. You sat at the bar getting yours and Roger’s drinks, thankfully it was an open bar. You rubbed your eyes and sighed from exhaustion and thanked the bartender before giving him a generous tip. You turned and felt a surge of jealousy bubble through your body when you caught sight of the gorgeous woman sitting on the arm of the chair Roger was seated in.

You sauntered over and handed Roger his drink while you tactlessly downed yours listened to the girl asking him questions about his drumming like ‘what’s that big round thing you hit?’ you couldn’t help but loudly scoff and roll your eyes; Roger of course was eating out of the palm of her hand, he loved having his ego stroked.

You once again excused yourself to refill your drink, you’d been going through them like they were water, but it helped make the façade of stupidity the girl played off bearable. In all honesty, you hated every time she opened her mouth and the loud obviously fake laughs that would follow Roger’s stale jokes. You hated it so much in fact that you’d taken up residence at the bar, the space around you now taken up by several empty glasses that once held alcohol in them.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually you felt arms wrap around your waist and a sloppy kiss placed on your neck. You could tell by the chapped feel of their lips and familiar scent that it was Roger, you turned and eyed him “Oh, you finished now?” Your voice held a tone of resentment that he hadn’t heard in what seemed like ages. It left an off taste in his mouth.

“What?” He asked, slightly confused.

“You really are fucking idiot, you know that don’t you Rog?” You asked, swiveling around on the barstool to face Roger.

He still held a look of confusion, not understanding your sudden hostility towards him, he quirked his head now seeing all the pieces fall into place “Are you jealous?” He asked sounding slightly amused.

You crossed your arms over your chest, swaying slightly with intoxication “Yes,” You answered truthfully “As a matter of fact, I am.” You answered as though you were relieved, he’d finally gotten the idea through his thick head.

Roger tried to hide the smile on his face and rolled his eyes, “She’s harmless,” He said motioning to the girl who was still seated in the same spot, his hands rested on both of your thighs with a soft yet firm grip.

You looked down at his hands and then back at the girl “The way she had you laughing didn’t seem harmless. I know you, Taylor, any girl strokes your ego and you’re ready to shove your face between her tits.” Your eyes narrowed as you kept a firm gaze on Roger.

Roger pushed your knees apart with his legs and stood between them, his hands slowly sliding up and rubbing your inner thigh with one hand while the other slid up your back. He pressed against you, impossibly close, and gripped your hair pulling it back harshly “You’re being a royal pain in my ass right now.” He whispered before nipped at your neck, it took all your will power to not preen into him and his touch.

You swallowed thickly, your eyes peering down at him, “What are you going to do about it?” You asked, your throat straining at the uncomfortable angle he held you at.

He released his grip on your hair, his touch lingering, “Well, seeing as the only tits I want my face between are yours, I’d dare say I would take you back up to the hotel and fuck you until you couldn’t walk,” You swallowed thickly, his words causing all traces of annoyance and anger to flee from your brain, “But there are about 6 empty glasses behind you and you’re piss drunk. So, I guess it’ll have to wait until morning.” He finished, earning a whine of disappointment.

“Roger,” You whined gripping his shirt and pulling him close once more.

Roger mocked your whines and wrapped an arm around your waist, throwing a sizable tip on the bar and pulling you off the bar stool “None of that, come on.” He said turning to see you trying to finish your last vodka tonic which he quickly pulled from your hands and gulped down.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to your little friend.” You asked, your drunkenness becoming more apparent when you finally stood up.

Roger kept your nearly limp body pulled tightly around him, “You know what, I should. It’d be rude to leave a fan without a proper goodbye.” You could tell he was just doing this to get a rise out of you and it was working.

When the two of you approached, the girl cheerfully said Roger’s name “I’m terribly sorry, dear,” He started, “I’ve got to take my girlfriend upstairs and take care of her before she passes out at the bar.” He said kissing your forehead and adjusting his grip around your waist while you clung to him like a child.

“That’s so sweet” She cooed, “Oh my god! You’re [Y/N]! I saw you the other week in Liverpool; your show was amazing!” She exclaimed, recognizing your face.

Your face flushed, both from alcohol and from the girl’s genuine compliment “Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You said giving the girl a closed mouth smile.

Roger bid the girl farewell and helped you upstairs to his room, “Roger,” You whined while leaning on him while in the elevator, “Are you sure, we can’t… you know…” you said trailing off and feeling your face heat up once again.

Roger let out a breathless laugh “You can’t stand on your own, love” He pointed out and jumped, feeling you trail your hands down the front of his pants “Don’t be cheeky, I’ll tie you to the bed if you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” His face soon reddened at his incriminating words.

You pursed your lips, smiling and putting a hand on his chest, “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” You teased.

The elevator chimed and the two of you stumbled out of the elevator and towards his room. Roger fumbled while attempting to keep you balanced and unlock the door. Once it opened, he plopped you on the bed and untied your boots, slipping them off for you while you slid your pants and bra off leaving you only in your tee shirt. You yawned softly while he undressed into his boxer briefs and slid in bed, “Wait-“ He said abruptly and lightly tapped your cheek “Don’t fall asleep on me, we’ve got to get that makeup cleaned off you.” He said.

You groaned, your eyes already closed “Sleepy,” You grunted, scrunching your nose and turning away from his hand.

The bed shifted, feeling the weight and warmth of Roger gone, “I know you’re tired, love, but you need to clean your face off.” The volume in his voice fluctuated as he entered the bathroom and returned to the side of the bed that you were laying on. It dipped under his weight and he pushed your shoulder softly rolling you to face him. He pulled your limp and exhausted body up and smoothed your hair from your face before he began to wipe what little makeup you wore off your face.

You flinched away from the cold cloth and he murmured comforting words to you before he tossed the cloth away. Roger shut the lights off and found his way through the dark back to the bed and made himself comfortable under the blankets. You automatically curled up next to him, finding comfort in his warmth, “I missed you,” You mumbled in a sleepy tone.

Roger kept you close to him and looked down at your silhouette laying on his chest “I missed you too,” He answered before closing his eyes and feeling exhaustion begin to finally settle in his bones.

You squeezed him and nuzzled your face against his bare chest “I love you,” Your voice was just barely a whisper.

Roger felt himself stop breathing for a moment, that had been the first time the L word had ever been spoken and he didn’t know what to do. His mouth felt dry from nerves as he stumbled over his words to find just the right way to answer. Did he love you? Was this an official relationship? Countless questions flooded his mind, overwhelming his hazy mind for a short second. Of course, he loved you; since tour started, he understood that what happened on tour stayed on tour but he still couldn’t bring himself to sleep with anyone else and reclused to the side with Deaky often times at parties or tried to make polite conversation. But he’d been hoping that when it was said, it wouldn’t have been a drunken slip up, “I love you too,” He answered.

\---

That night was one gigantic blur when you’d woken up the next morning in Roger’s arms, you hadn’t remembered your little confession, but the memory was still vivid in his brain. Your shuffling had woken him up and Roger pulled you back into his embrace when he felt you starting to peel yourself away. “Stay,” He said burying his face in your hair as it spread out on the pillows.

You yawned and rolled over to face him, “Don’t you have an interview to do?” You asked, brushing the hair from his face.

Roger cracked on eye open and peered at you through his blurry gaze, “It’s not for another two hours.” He answered, “I’m surprised you of all people want to get up right now.” He joked before shutting his eyes once again.

You scoffed, “Tour’s made me immune to hang overs.” You said smiling and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Roger’s nose scrunched up and he pulled the blankets over his face “Come on, we have enough time for a shower if you get up now.”

That got him, he peered out from under the covers “Like together?” He asked, suddenly interested in the idea of being awake now.

You nodded your head and Roger sat up, shrugging and attempting to mask his excitement “I suppose I can get out of bed for that.”

The two of you had barely gotten the shower before you became a mess of tangled and desperate limbs. The water ran down your bodies and the steam made it harder to breathe as you stumbled back into the walk-in shower. Roger pushed you roughly against the cold tile and you arched your back away from the biting temperature and kissed your neck, licking at the dark marks he left in his wake.

He gripped your wet hair and pulled it back harshly, exposing more of your skin “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how much of a brat you were yesterday.” He mumbled against you.

You let out a soft laugh that turned into a breathy moan as Roger bit down on your neck and pulled you close against his hardening erection, “I’m sorry,” You whined trying to grind down on him.

Roger hummed in response and as though he was in deep thought, “You know,” He started, inserting one of his long fingers into you and pumping in and out, the sound of the shower mixing with your soft moans “I might just leave you like this and deal with you after the interview.” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice and it made your toes curl.

-You pushed your hips in tandem with his fingers and spread your hands flat against the wet tile wall, “Roger,” You gasped, feeling his fingers curl against your soft walls, “Please fuck me, I can’t wait.” He was hitting all the right spots to leave you just out of reach of your peak of pleasure.

Roger suddenly pulled his fingers from you “Well, I can.” He retorted and grabbed the bottle of shampoo, lathering the soap into his hands and through his hair.

You turned and looked at him, mouth ajar with shock “You-” you couldn’t find a way to verbalize the frustration you felt, “You’re taking the piss, you can’t just leave me hanging like this.” You whined.

Roger smirked and leaned his head back, rinsing the soap from his hair and now moving onto body wash, “You better hurry up, lovie, I’d hate to run out of hot water; we’ve been in here white a while.” He was being such a smartass right now and you couldn’t stand it.

After perhaps the most uncomfortable shower of your life, you and Roger made your way to the press conference. It hadn’t even dawned on you that this was yours and Rogers first appearance together as a (maybe) official couple. Needless to say, you were thankful that the car had pulled to the back door of the station building, away from all the fans that huddled outside of the front entrance to try and catch a glimpse of the famous group of four. You sat uncomfortably silent, with your thighs pressed, together while Freddie, John, Brian, and Roger chatted amongst themselves. Roger kept his hand casually placed on your knee, but he knew very well what he was doing to you.

You all filed out and were herded through the back door, Freddie was trailing next to you while Roger pulled you along, his hand firmly gripping yours. “You know, a scowl doesn’t suit you, darling.” Freddie joked.

You huffed, “It’s Roger’s fault.” You said in a matter of fact tone.

A knowing smirk spread across Freddie’s face, “It looks like you ate a lemon, love, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone scowl so hard in my life.” He was biting back laughter.

You rolled your eyes, “He’s being a prick.” You said, clenching your jaw in frustration, the three of you stopped in front of Roger’s dressing room door; Roger turned and looked from you to Fred and back to you once more “Go on, I’ll meet you in there.” You said, shooing him with your hands.

Roger smirked, he could feel your frustration radiating off you and entered to begin the hair and makeup process. Freddie bit back a grin, “What ever is going on, Rog seems to be enjoying it.” He said crossing his arms over his chest.

Your scowl transformed into a frown “He got me all riled up this morning and then just fucking left me.” You said dramatically moving your arms and plopping them at your sides in defeat, “High and dry; is chivalry dead Fred?” Your voice was starting to increase in volume “I’m a simple girl, I just wanted to get laid after not having any human contact for a month!” You exclaimed, one of the stage hands coughed awkwardly announcing their presence and trying to squeeze between you and Freddie.

Your face turned red and Freddie howled with laughter as the young intern scampered out of sight “You know, Rog hasn’t either!” He answered, you let out a sigh of relief “Roger has never been one to shy away from any temptation, but you know he’s been behaving himself despite your little arrangement for tour.” Freddie said, giving you a knowing glance.

You pursed your lips now deep in thought, you really didn’t know how to respond to Freddie’s statement. You knew of all people on tour with Roger, Freddie would know the devilish deeds he’d been up to better than anyone else. You nodded your head, hearing Roger’s voice from the other side of the door “Right,” You said smiling, your sour scowl now all but vanished from your face “I better go see what he’s going on about.” You said bidding farewell to Freddie and letting yourself into the room.

Roger was sitting in front of the vanity while a team of stylists poked and prodded at him, prepping him for the interview. You didn’t know much work they needed to do considering Roger was already bloody gorgeous. He dutifully ignored your huffs and heavy-footed steps as you busied yourself around the dressing room, opening the bottle of complimentary wine and pouring yourself a glass. Things like this were always so tedious, it took all your iron will not to get totally piss drunk while waiting for Roger’s 15-minute appearance and the two hours it took to get ready and changed.

Once the makeup team left you decided to stir some trouble “Roger,” You cooed softly.

He turned around and his eyes widened to the size of saucers at the sight before him: you with your legs spread and skirt tactlessly pulled up, rubbing just outside your panties. He swallowed thickly seeing the dark damp spot that had been on your panties since the shower, “You should stop, love.” He said, cautiously getting up and stalking towards you. His steps looked as though they were carefully thought out and methodical, he effortlessly stepped over the low-lying coffee table and towered in front of you.

“What?” You asked feigning innocence with your breath hitching and hips twitching from your teasing.

Roger bent over you and gripped your wrist tight, not tight enough to hurt but just tight enough to send a message “I guess you never want to come, do you?” He said pulling your hands away. He leaned forward and pinned it up against the back of the couch.

You let out a shaky breath “Please, Roger,” You whined “I just want to come; you could take me out there and fuck me in front of the whole audience.” You were practically begging him at this point.

Roger smirked “Be a good girl and we’ll see after I’m done.” A knock at the door broke the sexual tension between the two of you. He kept his firm grip on your hand, “Yeah, what is it?” he called back.

“You have 10 minutes Mr. Taylor.” A crew member yelled back.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” He said, now turning back towards you “Behave while I’m out there, bad girls don’t come.” He said sharply, letting go of your wrist and walking out the door.

You slumped against the couch, huffing and looking down at your ruffled skirt and back at the door that Roger had just left from, you debated on whether or not you wanted to just finish yourself off right now, but something told you not to risk it.

After the interview came a late lunch, of course it was absurd for you to think that you would be heading back to the hotel. You sat, arms crossed over your chest and face accompanied by a scowling expression, back against the wall while John, Brian, and Freddie were to the sides and in front of you and Roger. The five of you made small talk about tour and exchanged various stories. You told them about how Benny got so piss drunk he’d broken several windows in the hotel and had the police called on him and they told you about how Brian broke the strings on the red special and switched to a copy, which also didn’t work so he destroyed it on stage. In the midst of Freddie talking about something he’d done on stage, you jumped, feeling a hand on your thigh. You shot Roger a glare and he simply ignored you but continued to trail his hand up your thigh now settling at the apex.

Your heart began to beat harder against your chest and you reached out grabbing your glass of water and drinking it to try and help calm your nerves. Roger slid his hand under your skirt and played with the hem of your panties while talking with Brian over some lyrics they just couldn’t get right. You held your glass of water so hard, you were surprised it didn’t break in your hand. You adjusted your legs and Roger expertly slid his hand into your panties, lightly teasing your folds.

You bit your lip, feeling sweat beginning to form at the base of your neck and clenched your jaw. Roger dove in showing no mercy and aggressively rubbing your soaked clit right off the bat. You gasped audibly and jumped earning a weird glance from John. The four boys continued talking, as though one of them wasn’t aggressively fingering you under the table; anytime there was a lull in silence you quickly picked up the conversation to cover up the wet squelching noises that were coming from between your legs.

Your thighs tensed and started to shake as you began to approach the release you so desperately wanted, your cheeks felt hot from arousal and your lip hurt from biting it.

You were close, so close.

And just as you were about to achieve release, Roger stopped, pulling his hands away and wiping them on your thighs. You whimpered lightly before you glanced down seeing your wetness glistening against your skin and turned to Roger. You looked completely helpless and desperate, he knew exactly what he was doing.

Your eyes burned from frustration and tears began to condense at the corners of them, as quick as they came, they were gone. You blinked and rubbed your eyes before slouching back in your seat, defeated once more by Roger’s teasing.

You picked at your plate like a bird, barely eating considering your mind was preoccupied on other things, like how Roger’s hand never left your thigh and sometimes traced the edges of your skirt. You truly had no idea why you chose to ware on today. Nothing but trouble comes from you wearing them.

When dinner ended the five of you returned to the hotel, as soon as the door to Roger’s room shut behind you, you latched on feverishly kissing his face and grinding against him with wanton need. Roger smiled and pulled away from your kisses and stopped your hips “Easy there, love.” He said grinning, knowing he was the one that had you all worked up right now, “Go lay on the bed like a good girl.” He said and patted your bum as you dutifully laid on the bed, legs spread for him.

He could smell your arousal as he crawled up the end of the bed and buried his face between your legs, nuzzling your panties. You bucked your hips against his face and moaned feeling the fabric scratching against your aching core “Rog,” You whimpered, hoping it would egg him on.

It didn’t, Roger pulled away and began lightly kissing and biting at your inner thigh, making sure to leave a nice and large hickies, promptly ruining skirts until the dark purple mark went away, “What, love?” He asked, his voice was slightly muffled from the plush skin of your thighs and you shivered feeling his lips moving against them lightly.

“I want you,” Your voice was helplessly small and soft, “Please? I’ve been good like you said.” You really were begging at this point. All your self-preservation had successfully been tossed out the window.

Roger trailed his kisses closer and closer to the spot you so desperately wanted him to touch before he pulled away once more, you flopped your head back in defeat and let out a frustrated groan, “Roger, if you don’t get to it you won’t like what I do.” You threatened.

He perked up at your tantalizing offer and pursed his lips “What are you going to do about it?” He asked not believing a word that came out of your mouth.

His look of disbelief continued when you managed to flip him over and straddle him, now freely grinding yourself against him, “Maybe I’ll just use you to get myself off.” You tutted, trying to ignore the pleasure you were receiving from his budding erection.

Roger rolled his eyes, dramatic as always, “I’d like to see you try.” He was egging you on, he wanted to see what you’d do.

You pulled off him and left for a brief moment before returning with two of his bandannas and grabbed his wrist, wrapping the cloth around his arm and leaning over to secure it to the bed post “What are you doing?” Roger asked, not stopping your actions and instead looking on with curiosity.

“I’m going to get myself off, is that okay Rog?” Your annoyance showing in your tone, “Or are you just going to keep teasing me?” you said while tightening his other wrist to the opposite side.

Roger tugged on his wrists, you smirked seeing him straining against them with a devilish glint in his eye, “I think I rather like where teasing’s gotten us” He said a coy smirk playing on his face.

You paused for a moment, hating to ruin the mood but needing to establish something “Safe word is red for stop, okay?” You said, Roger promptly nodded his head, repeating the word just to remember it.

You palmed him through his jeans, causing a hiss to escape the confines of Roger’s lips and you smiled with satisfaction. You liked this little predicament the two of you were in, “You looked so fucking helpless before, it’s about time you grew a fucking back bone.” Roger’s tone was harsh as he criticized you, “Finger fucking you in a restaurant,” He flashed a quick cheeky grin your way “In front of my mates no less, knew you were a slut.”

You gripped his jaw and added pressure causing his lips to pucker. He looked down at your hand and then back at you “Keep your mouth shut, Roger.” You snapped “I’ll shut you up if you don’t stop.”

He liked the sound of that, “What are you going to do? Stick your fingers down my throat and gag me like I do to you?” he teased.

Before he knew it, you’d managed to take your panties off and stuff them into his mouth. He moaned tasting your arousal on them and leaned into your touch when you patted the side of his cheek affectionately “Knock the headboard two times if you want to stop, since you’re gagged like a little bitch now.” You added the last part for good measure.

A wild look flashed in Roger’s eyes and he mumbled something, horrifically muffled by your makeshift gag, “What’s that?” You mocked, cupping your hand to your ears “I can’t hear you…” You hummed and unbuttoned his pants, “Must not be important.” You muttered to yourself and slipped them and his underwear off, exposing his half hard cock. You pumped him in your hand with long languid motions and kissed his neck and collar, briefly stopping to unbutton his shirt to expose his chest for your kisses. You licked and nipped at his skin, causing him to jump and let out muffled cries.

You made your way down to the top of his thighs and placed hot opened mouthed kisses on them before you gripped his cock, pumping it firmly in your hand and placing little kitten licks on the tip. Roger shuttered and his hips twitched with anticipation; you engulfed him, relishing in the loud muffled moan he let out and looked up to see his head lilted back with pleasure.

You continued to bob your head at a rhythmic pace, working him in tandem with your hand which covered what your mouth couldn’t fit. Your steady yet slow rhythm caused him to shift and twitch with impatience. What he wouldn’t give to fuck your mouth right now. You looked up and saw him struggling against the constraints that held him against the headboard and smirked, stopping your actions.

Roger let out a loud whimper and looked at you with pleading eyes while you continued to squeeze and slowly jerk him off. His breathy sighs began to grow in volume, and you could feel him hardening in your hand and his thighs flexing as he tried to hold off his climax. Just when his back began to arch you stopped. He locked eyes with you, there was a familiar fury in his eyes, like the one you held while he was teasing you all day, “What?” You said with a mocking innocence, “What’s wrong?” Roger let out a string of muffled and incoherent complaints, you crisply slapped his thigh causing him to jump and let out a small moan, “You did this to yourself, Rog.” You tutted smoothing your hand over the developing red mark on his pale skin.

You straddled him and slowly crawled up and cupped his face “I’m going to take these panties out of your mouth, okay Rog?” You said tracing your finger along his jawline, Roger leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, “Are you going to be a good boy for me?” you asked softly, he nodded his head in response.

Roger opened his mouth for you, allowing you to reach in and pull the damp cloth from his mouth. He inhaled deeply and coughed at the cold air touching his lungs before looking up at you with his large adoring eyes, you leaned down and kissed him with slow and languid motions. Roger whimpered into your mouth, feeling your tongue rubbing against his and matching your motions. You pulled away and smiled, resting your forehead on his “I was going to sit on your face, but I might just fuck you now.” You said letting out a laugh and slightly ruining the soft romantic moment.

Roger looked at you through half lidded eyes, “Why don’t you bring that pretty pussy up here.” He said softly.

A shiver ran down your spine and you sputtered out a response, before wasting no time and placing your thighs on either side of his head. You lowered yourself and felt Roger’s hot breath against your equally hot core and sighed, feeling him dipping his tongue between your folds and lapping at your wet pussy. You moaned, grinding your mouth against him, increasing the pressure on your clit.

Roger continued to enthusiastically flick his tongue against you while letting out helpless little whimpers from feeling the pressure continuing to build in his stomach from his arousal. You reached down and gripped a fist full of his hair before putting yourself flush against his face and restricting his air, “You’re such a good boy Roger.” You whimpered feeling his tongue meandering around your wet core.

You lifted yourself, allowing room for him to breathe and jumped not feeling him letting up on his motions. In fact, he eagerly lifted his head in an attempt to bring your closer to him, so you lowered yourself once again flush against his face. You looked over at his hands and could see them clenched, white knuckling against the colorful bandannas and digging his nails into his skin. You reached over and laced your finger with one of his hands. He whimpered feeling your soft touches and squeezed your hand in his own.

You continued to restrict Roger’s airflow a few more times causing him to begin to feel dizzy with pleasure and lack of oxygen, you pulled away from him and turned to see his cock red and twitching with overwhelming pleasure, you slid down an straddled your hips causing him to hiss, feeling your wetness against him. Roger’s gaze was unfocused, and his eyes lolled around as he tried to look at you “Christ Roger,” You started, leaning down to cup his face once more, “You look fucking gorgeous.” You said and placed a loving kiss to his forehead.

You sank yourself down onto his straining erection causing him to let out a soft whimper and scrunch his face as an overwhelming wave of pleasure washed over him. You sat for a moment, giving yourselves both time to adjust before you started to slowly ride him. Your moments were deliberate and slow which caused his head to be filled with a hazy fog, “Un tie me, please.” He begged breathlessly.

You raised yourself almost completely off him and slammed back down causing your skin to slap together, “Why?” You asked, remaining seated.

Roger’s back arched feeling your tightness constricting around him “Please, I want to fuck you.” His voice sounded eager with hints of impatience.

“Are you going to let me come? Or are you going to stop like you’ve been doing?” You asked sternly.

Roger swallowed thickly “No, no, no” He panted “I promise, I’ll fuck you so good, baby.” His wrists tugged against the constraints once more and you watched as the muscles on his arm and shoulders flexed.

“I guess so.” You said before leaning over to untie him from the headboard.

Roger’s hands quickly flew to your hips where he gripped them tightly, digging his fingers into the plush skin. He bucked his hips into you hard and you gasped, splaying your hands on your chest to help ground yourself. Roger anchored his feet into the mattress and rutted into you at a ruthless pace, slamming your hips down against his. You raked your nails down his chest and the room was filled with your lewd breathy moans and the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin.

Roger continued his aggressive thrusts, chasing the release the both of you so desperately craved. You leaned over him pulling him close against you and buried your face into his neck, latching your mouth onto his smooth skin. Without warning, he flipped you over, hitching your legs over his shoulder and leaning down, this new angle caused him to immediately hit that spot in you that drove you closer and closer to your release, “Choke me.” You said tugging on his wrist.

Without question, Roger’s calloused hands began to close around your throat causing you to arch into his touch. You kept your own hand tightly wrapped around his wrist and squeezed it urging him to tighten his grip. He complied causing your lungs to burn as they struggled for air, you were going to let this happen for as long as you possibly could. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears and looked up to see Roger’s brows furrowed with determination, an expression which faltered when your walls clenched around him for a brief second. You tapped his wrist and Roger let go, allowing a flood of oxygen to fill your lungs. But as soon as you caught your breath you placed his hand back on your throat urging him to continue. Roger gripped your throat hard and continued to fuck into you at a ruthless pace, he knew you were close and so did you. Your mouth hung ajar, and a string of strained moans erupted from you as you clenched down hard on his cock. Roger visibly shuttered from feeling you pulsing around him and collapsed over you, arms pulling you into his chest while he felt his release cause a wave of pleasure to finally wash over him. He writhed and his hips continued to thrust into you “Fuck, fuck, _fuck._” He said trying to catch his breath, he continued to ride out his and your own orgasms respectively and buried his face into your neck. His hot breath accompanied by his whimpers and moans filled your ear, “I love you so fucking much.” Roger’s words flowed out as gracefully as marbles, but nonetheless caused your heart to clench.

“I love you too, Rog.” You said between attempts to catch your breath.

The two of you soon became a mess of tangled limbs as you laid comfortable on the bed, enjoying the silence and each other’s company. Roger was the first to break the silence, “I really do love you, you know, that right?” He said, turning to face you, “And I’m sorry, for all the nasty thing’s I’ve said to you.” He finished, looking away sheepishly.

You swallowed thickly and your heart hammered in your chest “I love you too,” You answered, Roger glanced up at you urging you continue “And I’m also sorry for all the rude things I’ve said.” You leaned to kiss his forehead.

Roger hummed in response, “I never thought you were actually a shit bassist or song writer. I think you’re bloody brilliant.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close against him.

Once your, apologizes from the past were said and the two of you showered to cleanse the sinful deeds from your skin there was a sharp knock at the door. Roger groaned, getting up only in a pair of boxers and answered the door “What,” He said sounding obviously frustrated, “Oh, Fred,” His tone immediately changed.

“Come to my room, we’re playing scrabble.” Freddie said in a crude attempt to woo him over.

Roger scratched his shoulder and looked back at you “We might just stay in.” He said turning back to Freddie.

Freddie looked Roger up and down, observing the hickies that covered his chest and neck before his eyes settled on the fabric burn on Roger’s wrists “Rog, I didn’t know you were _that_ kinky” He smirked and grabbed his arm, pulling Roger’s wrist forward to twist and turn it for viewing.

Roger’s face and ears turned redder than red from embarrassment and he groaned “Fine, Fred we’ll be there. Keep your mouth shut about it.” He said, shutting the door in Freddie’s face.

\---

Tour for you had ended weeks ago and you successfully caught up on sleep and rested your tired bones, but the time to start your new album was quickly approaching. The nerves that went along with starting a new album were also in full swing, providing you with waves of endless nausea, you often times found yourself throwing up before going to meetings or waking up with a burning acidic feeling in your throat. Even the fact that Roger would be returning in a few days didn’t grant you solace.

“You need to get this checked out” Benny said leaning on the bathroom door and looking at your kneeling form, head in the toilet.

You tilted your head to look at your roommate “I’m fine, it’s just nerves.” You answered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Well these nerves are making us late for our meeting with the record company.” He answered.

You carefully got up and brushed your teeth to rinse the disgusting taste from your mouth, “Let’s just go.” You said fixing your hair in the mirror and heading for the door.

The meeting was boring and seemed to drag on forever just like always. A settlement was made on what your next album would feature, 12 songs that you, Joe, Benny and Haz had to split between the four of you which meant each of you would need to come up with at least three. As your manager and lawyer talked with the record mongrel you felt your stomach lurch, you quickly covered your mouth and pushed the aching feeling down and hoped it would go away soon.

But much to your dismay you found yourself abruptly standing up and going into the bathroom to once again throw up for the third time today. Haz excused himself and walked into the women’s bathroom only to see you sitting on the floor with your knees pulled up to your chest and head against the stall “[Y/N]?” He called poking his head into the open door, “Are you good?”

You frowned and looked up at him “No, Haz I’m not.” You admitted in an annoyed tone.

“I’m just trying to help.” He said defensively.

Your face softened, “I know.” You said softly and wrapped your arms around your legs burying your face between them and mumbled something incoherent.

“What?” Haz asked and sat on the floor next to you “I can’t hear you when you’re moping around like that.” He tugged on your arms.

“I’m late!” You said looking up at him with a worried expression and glazed over eyes.

It took a minute for Haz to register what you were saying to him, but once he got it his eyes widened “How late? Like a day or two? Or a month or two?” He asked

You leaned your head back once again “I don’t know, maybe a month or two?” You truly didn’t know, you hadn’t been one for tracking your period.

Haz ran a hand through his hair and huffed “Fuck, why didn’t you tell anyone? Are you insane? You need to take a test.”

You scrunched your face in frustration “I’m scared, Haz, that’s why I didn’t say anything. You already see what the stupid papers are saying after the last time we went to one of their shows.” A pap had snapped a photo of you and Roger kissing, and it had spread like wild fire, titles like _Do Punk and Rock mix? Roger Taylor’s Queen Seems to think so!_ Or _Newbie to the Music Scene Taking Advantage of Taylor and Queen’s Fame?_ began to surface much to your dismay.

Haz frowned “I’ll buy you one and you can take it at my apartment after this meeting.” He said and offered you a hand to stand up, regretfully you took it and allowed Haz to help you to your feet.

After the meeting you anxiously sat in Haz’s apartment waiting for him to return from the corner gas station. His apartment was very much a bachelor’s pad. It was lived in and had various random knickknacks he’d collected over the years on his shelves and guitar things strewn about. You plopped down on his old worn out couch and made yourself comfortable while listening to one of the many records in his collection. When he returned, he had a grocery bag in hand and plopped it on your curled-up body “I hope you need to piss.” He said sitting next to you, “Also I got some snacks for us.”

Waiting for the tests to finish developing was the hardest part, you took the three that came in the box just to triple check and paced back and forth while Haz sat on the couch eating the snacks he’d bought for you two to share “You’re going to wear down my floor boards if you keep that up.” He said and flicked a pretzel stick at you.

You picked up the pretzel and threw it back at him, “I’m nervous! I can’t help it!” You exclaimed, “What if I am? What do I tell Roger? He’s already got kids, I’m sure he doesn’t want more.” You mumbled to yourself and ran your hands through your hair.

Haz shrugged his shoulders “He should have thought about that before busting in you then I suppose.” He answered in a nonchalant manor. You pursed your lips, Haz was right, you and Roger should have really been more careful.

After an hour of waiting, you were too nervous to check the tests so instead you sat on the couch with the blanket pulled over your shoulders like a cape and waited for Haz to return from the bathroom, “How the hell do I read these things?” He called back.

“Just look at the directions in the bloody box!” You answered.

The silence in the bathroom followed by some muffled words only made your stomach clench more. He stepped out of the bathroom “Well two were positive, but one was negative, I don’t know if this is a majority rules case or not.” He answered truthfully.

You felt your mouth go dry, two positives, “Fucking hell.” You said and looked down at your stomach, there was a tiny being inside you right now as you spoke and it would be there for the next nine months, give or take a few weeks, “Haz I can’t do this, I can’t tell Roger when he gets back.” You said shaking your head with displeasure.

“You’re going to have to tell him sooner or later, you have to he deserves to know.”

You frowned, he was right, Haz was always right.


	5. It's Only Just Begun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a bitter sweet day today, I’m finishing Sour and I’m very thankful for all of the great feedback and people I have met and interacted with through this fic. I wanted to add a lot of things to this like some deleted scene stories previous to Roger and Reader’s relationships when they still hated each other, or some tour stories, so if you would like to see a Deleted Scenes series or have any requests for headcanons/ additional content please let me know! I also wanted to say that The BoRhap and Queen fandom have welcomed me with open arms and I’m honestly so thankful for that because I missed writing fics! I am already brainstorming my ideas that I have for a college AU!Roger fic and I’ve started writing my Four!Ben Hardy series so make sure to check that bad boy out so we can spread some more Ben Hardy love.

After Roger returned you hesitated on contacting him for several days and told yourself that you were just giving him time to settle back in. You didn’t question your actions, at least not until Freddie rang you up.

“Where the hell have you been?” his normally cheerful voice hissed on the other line.

You jumped at his harsh tone “I-I was just giving you guys some time to settle back in at home.” You said, feeling guilt beginning to fester within you.

“You’ve been ignoring Roger for a week, he’s worried sick about you.” You thought for a minute, you hadn’t even realized a week had passed, a week since they returned and two weeks since you took your little at home test at Haz’s apartment “Are you even listening?” Freddie scolded.

You let out a deep sigh “Fred, I’m pregnant.” You said bluntly “Well… I think I am at least.”

Fred was silent on the other line, it wasn’t common that Freddie Mercury was at a loss for words. You heard him swallow thickly “You? Like you have a baby inside you?” He pressed.

“Yes, Fred. I took three at home tests and two came back positive, I just can’t bring myself to see Roger.” You felt a wave of emotion wash over you “What if- what if he is mad at me.” You said, your voice cracking, “And I don’t want to go and see a doctor until I talk to him. Fred I’m scared.” You answered honestly.

Freddie let out an empathetic sigh, “[Y/N], dear,” He began, “I can’t imagine why Roger would be upset, he’s already been through this, he knows how kids work. You have to talk to him, you can’t be a hermit forever.” Freddie was right, in fact everyone who you had told said almost the exact same thing “Ring him up, ask him about that date the two of you agreed on, and go out with him then tell him over dinner.” Freddie said, you opened your mouth to ask how Freddie knew about your plan to go on a date with Roger when he returned but then shut it, Freddie always knew everything.

“Fine.” You said, your voice laced with frustration.

“Do it, now. When you hang up you better immediately call Roger.”

You groaned “Fine,” You answered “Bye, Fred.”

As soon as you hung up with Freddie, you kept your promise to him and immediately called Roger. He answered on the second ring “Hello?” He answered.

“Roger!” You said, you couldn’t help but break out into a smile upon hearing his voice.

“[Y/N]” He let out a breath of relief, the phone call was slightly awkward “I- um, I was hoping you’d call, been worried.” He answered honestly.

You twirled your fingers around the cord sheepishly “I know, I’m sorry,” you tactlessly stumbled over your words in an attempt to figure out what to say “I’m sorry.” You repeated, not knowing what else to say.

“Don’t worry about it, love.” You could practically see the soft smile on Roger’s face as he spoke to you, “Let’s grab dinner tonight, yeah?”

Tonight?

Oh no, you couldn’t do tonight, you had to prepare, you had to figure out what to say, you- “Okay”, you answered before you mind could deter you from it anymore.

Roger let out a small laugh “Okay,” He repeated, “Seven sound okay?”

You glanced at the clock, four hours to get ready “Yeah, that’s perfect. I’ll see you at seven.” Before Roger could move to bid you farewell you quickly spoke “What’s the dress code?”

The long uh, on the other line told you that Roger hadn’t even made it that far in his mental plans and caused a small laugh to escape your mouth “Let’s do nice, but not too nice.” He grinned, “I’ll be by to pick you up at around 6:30 okay?”

You clenched the phone cord in your hand “Perfect.” You answered, “By Roger, I-I love you.” You were still getting used to speaking those three words.

“Love you too, dear. See you soon.”

Benny came home to your room destroyed, clothes and shoes leaking out into the hall, and you sitting in the corner of your room in a defeated slump “Having trouble?” He asked, leaning on the door frame and peering down at you.

You let out a groan, “I don’t know what to wear.” You protested, “What the hell does nice but not to nice even mean?” You said while kicking a pile of clothes at your feet.

“Business casual, but make it sexy” Benny answered, moving his hands in a dramatic fashion.

You rolled your eyes, “Why am I so nervous? He’s literally fucked me in a closet before.”

Benny’s face cracked into a grin “Right, but you’ve never even been on a real date before. That’s probably why.” You sat up properly and looked at him, “Just wear that black dress,” He said nodding at the black dress you’d tried on three times in your frenzy, “bring a sweater, wouldn’t want to show your shoulder’s off to the world.”

\---

You’d settled on the black dress Benny picked out and were now sitting in Roger’s car, his fingers laced in your own as the two of you puttered in his car to the restaurant, occasionally pulling his hand away to shift the gear. The silence was comfortable and occasionally filled up with stories Roger would tell you from their escapades while on tour.

The restaurant was nice, you and Roger sat together in a C shape booth. Roger had ordered a bottle of wine, but you politely declined to which he quirked his brow at you in question. You pursed your lips and turned towards him and smoothed your hands nervously over your dress “I have to tell you something.” You said avoiding eye contact.

Roger put his glass of wine down and looked at you, giving you his full attention.

You felt your heart racing in your chest and clenched the fabric of your dress in your palms “I- Roger,” You felt your eyes burning with emotion “I think I’m pregnant.” You clenched your fists tighter and closed your eyes to stop the frustrated tears from flowing.

You felt Roger wrap his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and burying his face into your hair. He squeezed you tightly and pulled away forcing you to look up at him. Roger cupped your face in his hands, and he swiped his thumb under your eyes catching the wetness that fell from them “It’s okay, darling.” He cooed.

You laid your head on his chest and clenched his shirt “Are you mad at me?” you asked, your voice sounding meek.

You heard a laugh rumble from Roger’s chest “Of course not, love. Why would I be?” He looked down at you and smiled softly “It’s not your fault, there were two people involved in the making of it.” Roger followed by running his hand down over your belly. You closed your eyes and relaxed against his touch, there was something so natural about this situation, you, Roger, and his hand on your belly that might have something growing inside it.

\---

You were thankful that Roger had agreed to accompany you to the doctor’s office for your formal pregnancy test. Your heart raced as you waited for your results, squeezing his hand tightly as you sat next to each other in the examination room. Your knee nervously bounced, and he rubbed soft circles with his thumb on your hand, “It’ll be fine.” Roger said softly, prying his hand from your iron grip and wrapping his arm around you. You leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a sigh, was it going to be fine?

You sat up, hearing the door clicking and being pushed open and Roger’s hand shifted to your knee as the doctor walked into the room. You sucked in a sharp breath and watched the doctor scanning her clipboard, “Well,” She started, flipping through what seemed like endless pages, “It seems like your results came up as negative.” A weight felt as though it had been lifted off your shoulders and you let out a sigh of relief, “Sometimes those at home tests can be a bit off, so it’s good you came to get a proper one done.” She said smiling down at you. Your doctor hummed before scribbling down some notes “Your menstrual cycle was so late probably from stress and not properly caring for yourself on tour and the nausea and vomiting is caused by stress as well” She sounded like a scolding mother, “Remember to eat, drink plenty of water, and get some proper rest.” She added. After tying up a few more loose ends and starting a prescription for birth control the doctor left, leaving you and Roger to yourselves.

You slumped back in your chair, leaning your head back on the wall and let out a sigh “Christ, I was terrified.” You said, breaking the silence, “I don’t know what I would have done if I was actually pregnant.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look over at Roger despite feeling his eyes burning holes into you.

He cleared his throat forcing your attention, “[Y/N],” Roger sighed deeply, “You really need to take care of yourself, especially on tour.” He sounded like a scolding parent now.

You tugged your jacket on and tried to hide the fact that you rolled your eyes, you didn’t need him to lecture you like he was your mother. “I’m fine, Roger.” You sharply said.

Roger stood up, following you out the door and to his car, “You’re obviously not, you’re making yourself fucking sick.” He was getting angry now, slamming the driver side door as he took his seat.

You flinched as his voice rose with anger, “I don’t want to be lectured by you, Roger. You’re one to fucking talk.” You jabbed your seat belt into the buckle and turned towards him, “I see those tabloids of you and Freddie out at all hours when you’re on tour.”

Roger gripped the steering wheel tightly, “I’m not the one who had to make an appointment with a doctor, stop deflecting the problem and take some fucking responsibility.”

There was a lull in silence as his words hung in the air of his small car, you hiccupped and rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill. Roger glanced at you from the corner of his eye and moved his hand from the shifter to your knee “I’m sorry,” He said softly,” I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.” Roger swallowed thickly and squeezed your leg, glancing at you with a soft look on his face.

You chewed on your lip, debating on what to say before you shook your head “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, sinking deeper into the leather chair, “I just didn’t think this would be so hard,” Your voice cracked with emotions as rubbed your face with your hands, “Even with having a month off from recording, I’m still so fucking exhausted and we still have so much to do.” You finally broke, the stress from tour and recording weighted heavy in your mind and now cracked the wall you had built up. You choked out a sob and jerked against your seat as the car came to a halt, you fell into Roger’s chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you and kissed the top of your head.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Roger cooed against your hair, “It’s hard, I know.” He squeezed you and rubbed your back in a comforting manor.

Your shoulders shook and you tightly gripped Roger’s shirt in your hands. You cried your frustrations regarding having to write new songs for the upcoming album, the overwhelming exhaustion that still remained, how you would constantly forget to eat leaving your stomach clawing at you from hunger, and the mindless interviews you were forced to sit in as you were watched like a zoo animal. Your brain felt like a thick bowl of chowder; Roger pulled back and glanced down at you, taking his thumb and swiping a stray tear from your cheek bone, “I’m just so tired,” You said, your voice sounding weak and helpless.

Roger brushed the stray hair from your face, “It’s been a long day,” He admitted, “Let’s get home so you can get some rest.” Roger let out a soft sigh, you hadn’t even realized that when he had pulled over earlier, the car was stopped at the side of the road, still miles from Roger’s home.

You pulled away, exhaling deeply and using the hem of your shirt to wipe the moisture from your face, “Yeah,” You said softly trailing off “We should get going.” The remainder of the drive was spent in silence.

\---

The following morning you and Roger continued to lay in bed, you buried your face into his chest while he held you close, tapping soft beats on your back with his fingertips and peppering little kisses on your forehead and hair, “You feeling better, love?” Roger asked.

You looked up, placing a light kiss on Roger’s chin and sighed, “No,” You answered honestly, “But it feels nice just to lay about.” You couldn’t help but feel a little lingering self-hatred for yourself over your emotional outburst yesterday, “I have to get ready for that interview.” You mumbled, giving Roger a light squeeze before you began to pull away.

Roger tightened his grip around you, “Fuck the interview,” He answered, “Stay here.”

You glanced over at the clock, “I can’t I have to get ready, out manager will kill me if were late.” You couldn’t help but smile as you continued to pull away. Roger peppered feathery kisses down your neck causing you to erupt with giggles, “Roger!” You grinned and began squirming in his grip.

Roger smirked against your skin lightly biting down on your shoulder, “Aren’t you punks supposed to be, antiestablishment?” He asked, running his tongue over the discolored mark that was beginning to show.

You sharply inhaled and found yourself tilting your neck, exposing more of the surface for him “Y-yeah…” You answered in a shaky voice, “I suppose” you tried to think straight, but found that your brain was becoming heavily fogged over with lust.

He continued trailing down your shoulder to your chest, licking and sucking at the exposed skin around your breasts, “Then you can afford to be a little late,” he grinned against your skin feeling your chest heaving against him.

You reached down, running your fingers through his tangled and messy hair “I- I guess you’re right.” You inhaled sharply, feeling his mouth engulfing one of your nipples, lightly sucking and swirling his tongue around it, “Rog,” You found yourself whining and preening into his touch, glancing down to see his wide blue eyes staring up at with a devilish glint in them.

You pried his head from your chest and let out a whiney sigh “Just stick it in Rog, we don’t have a lot of time.” Your thighs clenched together to stave off some of the pressure that was beginning to pool between them.

Roger’s hand slipped between your thighs, his touch lightly teasing the hem of your panties “Aw, come on, I wanna take my time with you.” He said pressing his finger onto the damp spot that had seeped through onto your panties.

Your back arched into his touch, “R-Roger, we don’t have a lot of time,” you protested, spreading your legs further apart to allow him easier movement.

Roger pressed his fingers to your clit, watching you gasp and feeling your hips twitch at the feeling, “But I missed you” He pouted, burying his face in your neck and latching on.

Your hips bucked against Roger’s hand as he continued to lazily rub your wet cunt through your panties eliciting soft mewls to spill from your lips, “Please,” you whined.

Roger kissed the hinge of your jaw, “Please what?” He teased, you could hear the grin in his cocky tone.

Your thighs clenched around his hand, “Fuck me already,” You hissed in frustration, you knew his smartass was doing this on purpose.

Roger pulled his hand away and lightly slapping your cunt through your panties, your hips jerked and you sharply inhaled “Ask. Nicely.” He sharply articulated.

You swallowed thickly and exhaled a deep breath “Please, fuck me.” You voice was whiney and dripping with want.

Roger maintained eye contact with you as he pulled your panties to the side and slowly inserted two fingers into the familiar warmth of your pussy, you arched your back into his touch and let out a soft moan, “I don’t know if that’s convincing enough.” He said before he began to pepper kisses down your chest once more, licking and sucking at your hardened nipples.

Soft mewls escaped your mouth as your hips ground against his fingers, urging him to move faster, “Please,” You whined “Please, Roger, I want it so bad.” He was getting you so worked up and knew it.

Roger looked up at you, “That’s my good girl.” He cooed before finally sliding your panties off, you whined with anticipation as he shifted between your legs and lifted one over his shoulder. He teasingly slid his cock between your folds spreading the slick moisture about before he slowly inserted himself, letting out a shaky breath as he bottomed out. His arms roughly grabbed your hips and pulled them against his own, matching his pace as he began to slowly thrust into you.

A knot began to form in your belly as you felt his hips roughly slapping against your own. You whined, attempting to move your hips and urge him to pick up the speed, but he firmly held you still, “Please,” You let out a breathy plea as he lazily thrust into you, driving you mad.

Roger stared down at you, his hair still messy from sleep, mouth hanging slightly open, and shook his head “’M gonna take my time with you,” His voice was low and raspy, “Fuck you nice and slow.” His words sent a shiver down your spine and caused your walls to twitch for a brief second around his cock. Despite his slow pace, each time his hips met yours he slammed into you with force causing your body to jerk back and inch you further and further up the bed.

Your body twisted and writhed against his slow movements, they were driving you fucking insane. Every stroke of his was hitting all the wrong places, not allowing that overwhelming feeling in your belly to spill over. Your walls ached as he continued his brutally slow and teasing pace while you choked out a sob, “Please, please,” You gasped and dug a hand into your hair.

Roger reached a hand down, cupping your face and forcing you to look at him, his brows were furrowed with frustration and sweat began to bead at his forehead. You could tell this was just as hard for him as it was for you “Missed this pretty cunt of yours.” He clenched his jaw tightly as he was beginning to lose patience with his actions.

You reached up and grabbed his hand in your own, bringing his fingers down against your lips and sucking on them lightly, “Then fuck me like it.” You urged.

Your words sent him over the edge and before you knew it, Roger had leaned over you, keeping your legs on his shoulders and slammed his hips against yours, quickly replacing his teasing pace with a more brutal and primally driven one. Your thighs burned as he pressed them closer against your chest and hitting deeper into your cunt, repeatedly brushing over that spot that caused your toes to curl. “You like it when I fuck you hard?” Roger asked, roughly grabbing your hair and tugging your head off to the side, “Like the filthy girl you are?”

Your mouth hung open as you hissed out from the sharp yank to your head and began to dig the tips of your fingers into his back, feeling the muscles flexing under your fingertips, “Fuck, Rog,” You pulled him tighter against you, ignoring the burning from the muscles in your legs and back and dug your fingers deeper into his soft skin in a desperate attempt to find something to anchor yourself onto.

Roger’s sighs began to grow more and more whiney as his pace began to faulter. He buried his head into your shoulder, filling your ear with his breathy moans. The sounds and his fast motions worked together bringing you closer and closer to the edge until you felt a wave of pleasure washing over you. You let out sob, feeling your walls contracting around Roger’s cock and pushing him over the edge as well.

As the two of you rode out your highs, Roger’s thrusts slowed before he stopped and laid on top of you, kissing your temple and trying to stabilize his breath. The two of you laid together for a moment before he pulled out and rolled over next to you before playfully smacking your ass “Go on, you’re going to be late for that interview you know.” He huffed out and flashed you a cheeky grin.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s your fault.” You said biting back the smile that threatened to break surface.

\---

When you finally arrived at the interview you were thirty minutes late, but it wasn’t like it mattered anyways because you still had a solid hour left to wait around until you were called on stage with the rest of your bandmates. That didn’t stop your manger from scolding you when he saw you tromping into the room, “Where the hell have you been?” He scolded.

“Busy,” You retorted back to him.

Your manager, Hank, groaned in frustration “Busy with what? We have a tight schedule we need to keep to.” He tapped at his clipboard which had a neatly printed out schedule. Hank was the organization your chaotic band so desperately needed.

You shrugged, opening the door to the green room “Loosen up a bit Hank, you’ve got a stick up your ass.” He was a square, to put things politely.

Benny walked up, clapping a hand around your shoulder “Yeah Hank, loosen up, we’ve got plenty of time.”

Hank blew out a puff of air before smoothing his thinning hair back, “Fine, but before I ‘loosen up’” He said with air quotes “I have to lay a few ground rules down about questions you can and can’t answer.”

You rolled your eyes, it was the same as every other interview, “Try to not make any political statements that will get the press upset with us, definitely do not talk about how Benny was arrested back at the Liverpool concert, and try to keep the questions about our relationship with Queen to a minimum.” He said looking directly at you when he laid down the last rule, “Lastly, please, for the love of God” Hank let out an exaggerated sigh “Be polite, remember you’re being filmed.”

Somehow, Hank knew that as soon as the four of you went on stage that it was all in the hands of the universe. You and your band had developed a penchant for being sort of, brash and even rude at times during your interviews and controlling it was like controlling a brush fire.

As the four of you filed out to the table, cameras flashed wildly causing you to squint and avert your gaze while you took your seat between Benny and Haz while Joe was at the end. Immediately you found yourself lighting up a cigarette for the first time in weeks, inhaling and letting out a content sigh. Haz nudged your leg and caught your attention, “What are you doing?” He harshly whispered glancing at the cigarette and then back at your stomach.

You turned, blowing the smoke away from his face “False positive, we can talk later.” You whispered back before turning towards the question moderator.

“It’s so nice to see you lot back home from tour,” The moderator wore an ill fitting cheap suit and had thick rimmed glasses on, “What can you tell me are the highlights of your first tour?”

Joe was the first to speak “I suppose seeing the fans was really wonderful, it’s nice to know someone out there is enjoying our music.” He was always so poised and knew how to answer in a woefully articulate manner.

The crowd rumbled with laughter as a response before the moved onto the next question “So, Benny,” Ben immediately rolled his eyes and knew what question was coming up, “Several months ago the press printed that you had been arrested while at your Liverpool concert for nearly causing a riot to break out.”

Benny shifted in his seat and crossed his leg over the other “Yeah, what about it?” He asked trying to keep things casual.

“Do you think that the actions you take are going to poorly influence your younger fans? Are you worried on how they might see you?” The interviewer pressed on, you could almost feel the frustration radiating off Ben.

He cleared his throat “No, I don’t because our fans aren’t mindless sheeple like you lot.” He said and stubbed his cigarette with a small smirk playing on his face as the crowd roared with questions and the interviewer’s face turned red.

You bit back a smirk of your own and lightly nudged him before the interviewer cleared his throat and turned towards you, “So, [Y/N], can you tell us a bit about your bands relationship with Queen?” he quickly moved onto the next question, not bothering to comment on Benny’s response.

“Of course,” You grinned up at him, “John Deacon has been a great help when it comes to adding a new perspective on our sound, and Fred’s pretty much taken us under his wing. It was a great experience working with our studios so close together.” You knew how to answer all of their questions, yet not the ones they really wanted you to answer.

“What about your relationship with Queen’s drummer, Roger Taylor?”

You pursed your lips, stubbing your cigarette out in the ash tray and let out a long, purposefully loud sigh, “What about it?” your tone was surprisingly sharp, “I thought we were here to talk about the tour and upcoming album.”

The interviewer could sense he was walking on thin ice, “We are, but if we could just break away for a second; do you have anything to say about the recent tabloid article published about him and Mercury while on tour? Their late-night escapades while at night clubs? Do you question his loyalty in the relationship?” The way the interviewer’s eyes bore into you made you want to deck him right then and there in front of all those cameras.

“I’m not his fucking mother, what he does on tour is none of my business and what I do on tour is none of his.” You clenched your jaw, “I didn’t know this was a fucking gossip column.” You added and crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your chair back, rocking back on the legs.

The rest of the questions proceeded to circulate around the upcoming album and what the groups plans for their next tour were or if your troupe had decided to go to the States or not. The electric air had seemed to calm itself until they opened the floor for questions. One of the reporters in the back stood up “Hello, this one is for [Y/N]?” You nodded his head, eyes uninterested but still urging him to continue so you could get this stupid interview over with, “How is it being the only female in a male dominated punk group, do you find yourself getting more emotional over criticism?”

Oh god, you hated these questions, typically they had a sense of naivety behind them, like people didn’t understand that they were putting you down and pointing you out as less than. You tried to humor them and answer their questions honestly, they didn’t know better, but today you had fire coursing through your veins from the gall of the interviewer’s questions. You shifted in your seat and leaned in close to the microphone, “It shouldn’t matter if I have tits or not, I’m still better than some of these other piss poor bassists out here.” You leaned back in your chair, a cheeky smirk playing on your face while the crowd erupted with murmurs and the cameras flashed.

After your interview you, your bandmates, and Hank all sat in the greenroom after your interview. He let out a frustrated sigh “Do the four of you ever listen?” he scolded, “I tell you to be polite and you two have to go and pull that!”

You and Benny exchanged glances before you spoke up “I’m not going to let some corporate puppet disrespect me on television, Hank,” you retorted “I’m sorry I upset you, but I’m not sorry for what I said.”

Hank sighed, appreciating your honesty and apology “Let’s go, we have to get to practice.” He grabbed his cup of coffee before turning towards the four of you “Flask?” He asked while the four of you averted your gazes from him “Come on, I know one of you has one. Need a drink after this shit.” He couldn’t help but break out into a grin as the four of you each pulled a flask from your pockets before grabbing one and splashing a bit into his travel coffee mug.

“Come on, Hank, pour a bit more in there than that.” Haz grinned, clapping your manager on the back and causing him to stumble forward, sloshing a bit of brown liquid out.

Hank sheepishly looked at you and added a bit more before letting out a little giggle as though he were a naughty school boy.

\---

The recording for the new album was in full swing which meant long days and late nights that were more than likely fueled by alcohol. So, tonight was like any other, you stood in the booth with your bass loosely hanging from your neck while your fingers strummed the backing for a new song. You swayed to the beat, loosing yourself in the music and looked up to see John Deacon intently watching you with critical eyes and causing your fingers to stumble along the bridge.

You stopped, “Fuck,” You cursed shaking your head “Stop fucking watching me.” You hissed at John, slightly irritable given how long you had been at the take.

John rolled his eyes, clicking on the microphone to talk to you “Do you want to keep getting questions like that last interview?” he was nearly as irritable as you were and while his comment pissed you off, what pissed you off more was how right he was, your silence answered his question, “That’s what I thought, now quit whining and play.” He clicked off the microphone and waved his hand for you to continue playing.

After that, you played the next take perfectly.

It was nearly 6pm by the time you had finished up for the day, giving you just enough time to get some take away and head to Roger’s house. You were showing up unannounced since this was his break time from recording, but it was an occurrence that happened often.

You walked up the sidewalk to his front door and could see the lights on in the kitchen and living room and knocked on the door. You shifted, not wanting to let yourself in and be rude and knocked again before you heard a muffled voice call back. Roger opened the door wearing a blue flannel tucked into some light-colored jeans, his hair messy per usual and wearing a pair of wide circle glasses, something that rarely occurred, “I brought take out,” You said lifting the bags in your hand and giving him a small smile.

Roger grinned back at you, but his grin was cut short by the sound of something crashing in the background, He cursed under his breath and turned, looking over his shoulder and sighing “I- uh- I wasn’t expecting you over today.” He was clearly getting antsy, you could tell by how he kept checking over his shoulder and shifting his feet while he rested his arm on the front door, keeping it slightly closed.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, craning your head to look behind him.

Roger shifted and moved to obstruct your view, “Yeah, everything’s fine, it’s great.” He flashed you a closed mouthed smile before another loud crashing sound came from his back room, “Shit,” He breathed out twisting his body to look behind him.

You felt your blood run cold when you saw a small mop of blonde hair bouncing and grabbing onto Roger’s leg, “Daddy,” the little boy whined, “Come back and play.”

Your mouth felt dry and a sudden feeling of guilt washed over you, like you were interrupting a private moment between Roger and his son. You’d seen pictures of him around the house, but never actually met the boy before yet here you were, “I’m sorry,” You suddenly said, “I can come back later.” You turned to leave.

Roger grabbed your arm “It’s okay, He started and looked down at his son “Felix doesn’t like my cooking very much and it’d be a shame for that to go to waste.” He said, a small smile playing on his lips.

You couldn’t help but break into a grin knowing how bad of a cook Roger was. The drummer stepped aside, letting you in and followed you to the kitchen where you set the bags on the counter. You turned around to see Roger holding his son and setting him on the counter. The little blond boy tugged on his dads shirt before loudly whispering “Daddy, who’s that?”

You couldn’t help but smile as you rummaged around Roger’s kitchen and found some plates before you started dishing out the food onto the plates, “This is [Y/N],” Roger said finally introducing you, “it’s okay, you can say hi.” He said nudging his son in your direction.

The little boy grinned up at you a smile that was already so familiar to you, “I’m Felix,” He said and looked down at the plate making a face, “I don’t like onions can you take them off?” Felix looked up at you with wide blue eyes.

Your heart melted, “Don’t worry, I don’t like onions either.” You said and began picking them off with a fork.

Roger scoffed seeing you easily cave for the little boy, “Felix,” He said in a scolding voice before glancing at you, “Don’t let him know you’re weak.” He said nodding at the plate you were still picking onions off.

“I’m not weak.” You quickly retorted.

Roger nodded his head “Sure,” He said dragging his words out in a teasing manor, “That’s why you’re picking onions out the food of some kid you met five minutes ago.” He said helping Felix down from the counter and grabbing both of their plates and setting them on the table in the dining room.

It was odd sitting around the table eating dinner with Roger and his son. Typically, when you brought home take out the two of you would eat from the Styrofoam containers and would reruns on the tv, but that wasn’t an option considering the current situation.

Felix was well mannered, but still liked to occasionally get up and wander around while he ate and still made a mess. You sat, quietly eating your dinner while Roger and Felix talked amongst themselves. You didn’t realize a four year old had much to talk about, but just like his father, he was very opinionated on everything.

“[Y/N]?” Hearing your name called pulled you from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked looking up from your plate and at Roger and Felix who were both staring at you.

“Felix asked what you play.” Roger said smiling softly.

You sat up and grinned “I play bass!” You proudly said.

“Just like uncle John?” The little boy pressed, eyes wide showing he was genuinely interested.

“Yeah just like uncle John.”

“Do you play in daddy’s band?” He asked focusing his attention on you.

You shook your head “No, I have my own group, but sometimes we jam together.” In all honesty it felt weird, you know, talking to a kid about your day and like they were an adult. You really hadn’t had much interaction with kids under the age of fifteen, so this was totally out of your ballpark.

The night progressed and soon little Felix found himself curled up, nestled into your arm. He’d taken quite a liking to you after the two of you played with his cars. He’d fallen asleep while you’d read a picture book to him and couldn’t bare to stop reading to him, what if he woke up?

Roger nudged your shoulder when he walked back into the room and saw you contently running your fingers to Felix’s soft blonde hair, “He’s got you wrapped around his little finger.” Roger joked.

You scoffed and carefully shifted so it was easier to glance at him, “I don’t know about that.” You retorted.

Roger let out a soft laugh before he bent down to pick up the boy, you quickly protested “No, no, no” You said, “I’ve got it.” You shifted and carefully stood up to not wake the boy from his sleep, picking him up and feeling a tug at your heart when he buried his head into your shoulder and loosely wrapped his arms around you.

Roger’s face softened, he’d never seen you interact with a child before, let alone his own, and he had been planning on introducing the two of you at some point but lacked the courage to take the first step. He liked seeing you reading to Felix and playing with him; you were practically a natural despite being scared shitless.

You walked behind Roger as he led the way to Felix’s room, opening the door and letting you in. Roger pulled the blankets back and moved some of the stray toys off his bed before you laid him down. “Felix, dear,” You whispered shaking the boy’s shoulder lightly.

The young boy sleepily whined and rubbed his eyes, turning away from you, “Come on, hun, we’ve got to put your pajamas on.” Roger was slightly surprised by the soft motherly tone you had as you knelt on the floor near Felix’s bed.

The poor boy could barely open his eyes he was so tired, so you and Roger worked together to dress him in a pair of blue pajamas adorned with multicolored dinosaurs. Roger took over from there, tucking Felix in and kissing his forehead before clicking on a little nightlight by his bed and shutting the door behind him as he left.

The two of you readied yourselves for bed, changing and brushing your teeth. You didn’t live with Roger, but still kept a few things over there for nights like this. The was something so wonderfully domestic about that night, the way the two of you moved around his bedroom and got settled for the night with the familiarity that only built up after years of being together.

You took up your spot on the right side of the bed and covered yourself up in his blankets before Roger crawled in, humming contently and placing a kiss on your shoulder, “You’re good with him, you know?” He murmured against the fabric of your old tee-shirt and rubbed your arm.

You shook your head, “I was terrified, I never hang out with kids.” You said yawning.

Roger squeezed you against his chest; you hadn’t realized until that moment just how serious the relationship between you and Roger had gotten. The two of you exchanged ‘I love yous’ and ‘good nights’ and within minutes you could hear Roger softly snoring in your ear. You rolled onto your back smiling softly as he automatically moved his head to the crook of your neck. Your mind began to swim with thoughts, about the time you’d left practice for lunch and came back to find that Roger had stolen your brad new bottle of vodka you had stashed in the recording booth and downed it, to the time you’d dropped your cigarette butt in his half full can of coke; knowing he would drink out of it, you bit back a grin remembering his face when he finally took a drink from it.

You would have never expected to be laying here with the man you loved comfortingly snuggled against your chest while you ran your fingers through his hair absent mindedly, your mind swimming with the bitter relationship previous to this and how you slowly traded it for something a little less sour.


End file.
